


The Lost Ones

by LizHollow



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions, Pocket Monsters: Black 2 & White 2 | Pokemon Black 2 & White 2 Versions
Genre: Angst, F/M, One-Sided Attraction, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 50,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizHollow/pseuds/LizHollow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They could search and search, but they would never be any closer to finding the other.</p><p>N, upon his return to the Unova region, swore to find Hilda and express his gratitude for everything she did for him. But after disturbing details regarding her disappearance come forth, he has no choice but to enlist the help of Rosa and Cheren to find the girl who saved him all those years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Probability Theory

In the dawn, the air breathed light and cool, but by noon, stagnant heat weighed down on the people and Pokémon of Unova. Most enjoyed the relatively temperate climate of their region and would not stray from the world they knew so well, but every so often, one might break free. There was a rumor in Unova that once someone escaped from their homeland, they never returned.

This was not always the case, not the least for Natural Harmonia Gropius. In truth, N once made the decision to leave and not return, but returning had been the only option if he wanted to protect the Pokémon he called his friends.

The same was not true for his human friends, few though they were—in particular, Hilda, the hero who taught him not so long ago that it was possible and necessary to accept different ideas. She awoke his heart, though maybe not in those words to him, but by the time he returned to Unova, she was already gone.

What N did not realize, and what the second hero Rosa tried to tell him, was that she left to search for him. If he stayed, if he didn’t flee again, then Hilda might very well come back for him.

But months passed, and those months added up into a year and longer still.

Hilda sent no word to any of her friends—not to Cheren or Bianca or Alder or any of the gym leaders who had become her friends as she traveled across Unova the first time. Yet it was not until Cheren came to N that anyone suspected something might be wrong.

N, though he had grown up as king of a substantial group of people, didn’t particularly enjoy the company of others, especially since his father—if he could call the man that—had used him for evil deeds. Still, he sat in a small café with Hilda’s childhood friend, fidgeting a little uncomfortably in a chair across the table from the dark-haired boy. N wasn’t particularly intuitive, but even he could tell that Cheren didn’t exactly harbor amiable feelings towards him.

“Let’s make this quick, shall we?” Cheren suggested, and N nodded. N had perhaps a couple of years on Cheren, but his innocence from his upbringing gave the appearance of the opposite. The boy with the green-tinged hair stared at Cheren through his eyelashes like a child. “Has Hilda made any attempt to contact you?”

“Unfortunately not.” N had no way of coming in contact with her, anyway. “Should we make the assumption at this point that she has no intention of returning? I was hoping to speak with her…”

Cheren frowned, dropping his voice down to a whisper as he said, “She’s not the type of person to just run off without letting anyone know where she’s going. She told us—Bianca and I—that she was going to look for you and that she would keep us posted. And she did for awhile, but… then communication stopped altogether.” He rubbed his chin, his eyebrows furrowed—something didn’t add up. “She’s been gone for three years…”

“Logically,” N began, “there are two possible reasons: she does not plan on returning and chose to sever ties through a halt in communication or… something is amiss.”

Cheren’s gaze darkened, something that would have once been hidden behind the glare of his glasses. “You don’t need to put it so blatantly,” he hissed, but his gaze softened as he leaned his face against his hand. “I’m concerned. I was hoping that since you’re the one she’s been looking for she might have tried to contact you, but…”

“I don’t have anything she could contact me with,” N admitted. Though he was fond of the developing technologies, he found no point in acquiring a phone or Xtransceiver. Save for Hilda, there was no one to contact, and since she was missing…

It was unlike Hilda to just vanish, but Cheren and N left it at the fact that she just wanted to be left alone. Their meeting ended without a sense of success or conclusion, which was evident in the way Cheren stood up hastily and deliberately stomped out of the café without a final word to N.

N wasn’t out of tune with the emotions of humans completely, though he had been kept from them growing up and had built an extreme connection with Pokémon. Even he could see that Cheren felt something for Hilda, though it was a question of what, and N felt some guilt. Hilda wouldn’t have left if it hadn’t been for N leaving first.

There was no other choice. He had to look for her; she saved him once—those three years ago when he needed to be awoken to the ideals and truths of this world. It was his job now to save her, wherever she was. On the one hand, Hilda was not the type of girl to need saving; on the other, if she did need it, he wouldn’t leave her alone to face the world.

His search began small, located in Unova itself. He strayed from his comfort zone, talking to a myriad of people and asking for Hilda’s whereabouts. The search proved fruitless, however, as the days passed. Everyone knew Hilda—that much was certain—but no one had seen her since before N last had.

Without much of a choice, he increased the radius of his search. He didn’t own anything of Hilda’s, so his Reshiram—his best friend—couldn’t help locate her. The psychic-Pokémon that he called his companions weren’t much more help, either, though it was not something for which he blamed them. But as the search spread towards the boundaries of Unova, he wished for some sort of clue.

And clue he received.

Luck and chance could often be confused with coincidence. What were the odds, after all, of stumbling upon an artifact that could very well belong to Hilda, just outside Unova—an object so small that only the careful eyes of his friends could spot it? Was it all up to chance that this could happen—was it mathematical probability, which could be proved with the theorems and calculations N loved so much, or was it purely coincidence?

His Reshiram dove, landing without so much grace near the object, and N slid off its back with a lingering hand on its scales. _Just there_ , it told the human, and N nodded and found the small object hidden in the blades of tall grass.

It was Hilda’s, all right, though faded and worn. Her name and picture—a close-up headshot of her smiling face, with her blue eyes light and happy—and all of the information vital to any traveling trainer were there. It was her trainer card, which all trainers were required to carry on them at all times. But here it was, thrown down in the grass, where it had suffered weathering over time.

He flipped the card over to the side that wasn’t so faded and hadn’t suffered the effects of rain and wind. But it was not to say this side was unaffected. No, something red covered it, matted dry and matted thick.

He could only hope that it wasn’t her blood, but when he held the card up to Reshiram, the answer was not the one he wanted.

\- - - - -

N returned to Aspertia, the southern-most town in Unova closest to the foot of the mountains where he discovered Hilda’s missing training card. Hilda was not from this town, though Cheren made his new home in it—had Hilda made a pit-stop here before leaving the region?

It had been three years, and the first hint came from close to home. It disturbed him. That card, matted with her blood, might have been sitting there for those three years. Where was Hilda now, and was she safe? Was this a coincidence, too, and maybe she only dropped the card upon splitting her finger or something of the like?

N sat in the Pokémon Center—which he didn’t particularly like, but he needed somewhere to sort out his thoughts—and turned a die in his hands. If the random event of rolling a die were to be repeated over and over, patterns would develop that could be studied and, eventually, mathematical predictions could be made…

“Probability theory,” N whispered to the die, still turning it over. He let it drop on the table, and it turned over its edges until it landed. “Four. The probability of rolling a ten on two rolls is 8.3 percent. I would need to roll a six to get to ten… The probability of rolling a six is 16.6 percent, so—”

“Excuse me.”

N scooped the die up and looked at the speaker, the dark-haired nurse with a wide smile. Most people, men and women alike, would look at the nurse and deem her beautiful. And though N could appreciate the gentle smile she gave him, the only girl who he ever considered beautiful was Hilda, and she was the only one he truly saw.

“Sorry to bother you. I wanted to ask if you’d like any tea. You’ve been sitting here for quite some time, and sometimes the air conditioning makes it a little chilly in here.” The nurse smiled even wider, her eyes thin.

“Oh.” N pocketed the die and sat up a little straighter. “I’m all right. However…” He hesitated, and the nurse’s smile flickered a little. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

N’s eyebrows furrowed at the peculiar response, but he took it as a yes. “Did Hilda—ah…” He paused when he realized he didn’t know her surname. “Champion Hilda, the one who succeeded Alder, did she come through this area approximately three years ago?”

“Three years—” The nurse’s face contorted, but despite this, her beauty remained. She brushed a tendril of brown hair that had moved forward back behind her ear. “That’s an awfully long time ago. I see hundreds of trainers every week, and to think back—”

“One hundred fifty-six weeks, give or take a week,” N offered helpfully.

The nurse nodded, not thinking that nearly as helpful as N did. “Yes, that many weeks. I’m not sure that I can…” Realization seemed to settle with her expression, which grew soft and emphasized the thickness and softness of her lightly-tanned skin. “You know, I remember something—a girl who dropped off her Pokémon here and never came back for them. She had an extremely powerful and well-trained team. I had to send them to a shelter because she never returned, and we only wait for a period of two weeks. Pokémon get abandoned all the time, so we never suspected anything.”

“Did she have an Emboar?”

The nurse nodded. “Yes, I believe so. But this was so long ago, I’m not sure who I’m talking about. It could be the Champion, it could be some random girl. And I don't remember when either. It might have been less than three years.”

Random events eventually gave way to mathematical probability—a string of random events, all occurring from the same subset, would lead to a solution. There was, N decided, no such thing as coincidence. There was only chance.

“Thank you,” N said, shooting up and hurrying out of the Pokémon Center despite the calls from the nurse to wait.

His long hair, pulled back into a single ponytail, bounced against his back as he made haste to the Aspertia Gym. When he pushed the doors open to the schoolhouse, students at their desks turned and looked back at him. He avoided their gazes as he made his way to the front of the room to the teacher and leader.

“Cheren, I have news,” N began without so much of an introduction, and he smacked the die down on the desk at which Cheren sat. The dark-haired boy stared at it and then looked up at N with raised eyebrows. “The probability of malicious incidence is high.”

Cheren sighed, pushing the die across the table towards N. “I don’t have time for a math lesson. I have a class to teach.”

“No, wait.” N reached into his pocket again, this time surfacing with Hilda’s trainer ID. He passed it to Cheren, who finally showed interest. “Reshiram confirmed that the blood on the back is Hilda’s. I went to the Pokémon Center here in Aspertia, and the nurse said that Hilda dropped off her Pokémon and never came back for them.”

Several students had started to stare at the pair, which Cheren realized almost too late. He stood up and grabbed N’s sleeve, tugging him into the back room where, though snug, they had a bit more privacy. Cheren flipped on a light and sat on the desk shoved against the wall, and he crossed his arms.

“Are you saying someone took her? Ghetsis?” Cheren demanded, though his voice was hushed.

“No, Father is no longer capable of performing any malicious acts,” N assured Cheren, though the latter scoffed at that idea. “I’m not sure what the case is, but I want to find her.”

Silence made the room stifling, and Cheren leaned his head back against the wall, completely exasperated after the short conversation. What was he supposed to expect? On the one hand, he never trusted N completely. On the other hand, he knew that N’s feelings towards Hilda were legitimate, though he couldn’t say he approved of that, either.

But he also knew that N was incredibly intuitive and intelligent, despite his upbringing, and even Cheren didn’t have the instincts that N did.

“I want to come,” Cheren decided, a little unsure of leaving N alone to find Hilda. “And we should ask Bianca.”

N didn’t know Bianca that well, but he did know another girl who might prove helpful—one who reminded him of Hilda. He would have preferred going at this alone, but if Cheren wasn’t going to let him, he might as well have a team.

“Rosa, too.” N took the trainer card back from Cheren and stared at it. Rosa and Hilda looked an awful lot alike. “I want to ask Rosa, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! This is my first time going back to third-person in a LONG time. The last time I wrote a story of significant length in third-person was probably back in my Harry Potter fanfiction days, about four years ago. Or more. It's just been a very long time...
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story.


	2. Diamond in the Rough

The murmurs of people did not speak as loudly as the voice of a particular Pokémon in the crowd. N stood patiently through his father’s speech, but his ear caught not on the sounds of Ghetsis’s voice nor the whispers surrounding him. In fact, he couldn’t hear Ghetsis at all anymore, and he had blocked out every other sound, too.

_Hilda isn’t selfish. She’s a good human._

The young Pokémon, perhaps, didn’t know any better. N frowned, tugging his hat a little lower as he glanced down the row of people beside him. He couldn’t see the Pokémon nor its trainer, but he wanted to meet it. Its voice, especially for one so young, was strong, which could only suggest that its trainer was equally as strong.

Once Ghetsis’s speech concluded, the crowd dispersed, though not happily. Team Plasma, of which N was king, had created a stirring here—this was good. If N was ever to create a separate world, so that Pokémon could be free of people and people could no longer use Pokémon for their own selfish reasons, the conversation had to begin: were people in the wrong?

N pushed through the moving crowd towards two trainers at the farthest side, a young man and a young woman. The boy, clearly displeased by Team Plasma’s platform, spoke quickly and angrily to the girl, who stared pensively beyond the boy. She was the one—she was the one whose Pokémon spoke.

Maybe—and this was a definite maybe—she was different. He didn’t expect it from the boy, but the girl might be able to hear the voices of the Pokémon, too, especially considering hers spoke so firmly. It was worth a shot.

“Your Pokémon,” N began, approaching the couple, who turned on him apprehensively, “just now, it was saying—”

“Saying?” the boy scoffed. Even the girl furrowed her eyebrows, and N frowned.

“Yes, they’re talking.” The boy laughed, a quick mocking laugh that N was used to hearing from Ghetsis. N frowned. “Oh. Then, you two can’t hear it, either… How sad.” He paused, holding out a hand towards the girl, as he had seen people do when first meeting. “My name is N.”

She slipped her hand hesitantly into his, and N smiled, hoping that this might show that his intentions towards her were not bad. After three quick pumps, she said, “Hilda,” confirming that it was her Pokémon that spoke: she was the good human, the unselfish one, the one who might make a difference.

But then he let his gaze leave her face, and he saw the small device attached to a pocket on her pink bag. So, she wasn’t just a trainer…

“The Pokédex, eh? So…” His expression darkened, and he pulled his hat lower again so that she might not see. “You’re going to confine many, many Pokémon in Poké Balls for that, then. I’m a trainer, too, but I can’t help wondering… are Pokémon really happy that way?”

The answer was obvious to him, and it always had been. He hated calling himself a trainer and didn’t really consider himself one, but it was the only way to describe it to someone else. There was no adequate alternative—he, too, had Pokémon in Poké Balls, but it was not his intention to keep them that way.

He only had one Pokémon with him right now, one that he had saved only recently, but it was friendly and helpful. It would help him.

“Well, Hilda, is it?” He was only interested in the girl, and the boy beside her was well-aware of, and rather annoyed by, this fact. “Let me hear the voice of your Pokémon.”

Her face, for the first time since he met her, lit up. It was the first time, though not the last, that he saw those bright blue eyes widen with anticipation and excitement, the first time that he saw her lips part and widen into an eager smile—and it was the first time her voice squeaked, something he grew fond of over time, as she answered, “Sure!”

It was a little Tepig that spoke. N recognized its voice immediately. _I’ll fight for Hilda!_ it cried, and N watched it carefully as it moved towards his Purrloin. _I like her. She’s a good trainer._

When Purrloin was knocked back and could no longer fight, Hilda was the first one to return Tepig to its ball. N had to say, he was impressed by her nature—she was the first human he had ever met outside of Team Plasma to show such concern for Pokémon, and she was the first human that a Pokémon described so kindly.

“I never expected to hear Pokémon say such things…”

But this girl, this Hilda, was the exception to the rule. And when Hilda questioned, her voice soft now, what things her Tepig said and what things he had expected to hear, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. She was a diamond in the rough, and he hoped to keep her that way.

“As long as Pokémon are confined in Poké Balls… Pokémon will never become perfect beings.” N noted how the boy’s lips pursed. “I have to change the world for Pokémon because they’re my friends.”

N turned and walked away without so much as a goodbye, but he didn’t think it was truly a goodbye at all—he would seen her again without a doubt. The probability was one hundred percent.

\- - - - -

“Rosa?” Cheren shook his head with a smirk. “She doesn’t even know Hilda. What help would she be in locating her, and what makes you think that the Champion, of all people, wants to tag along on a rescue mission for someone she has never met?” When N didn’t respond, Cheren shrugged. “Bianca and I. That’s who you’ve got.”

“No, I want Rosa, too,” he repeated, and when Cheren crossed his arms again, N moved his hat up. “She _might_ come if I ask, but she’ll definitely come if you ask. She respects your opinion as a gym leader. But even more than that, she respects people and Pokémon alike. If she knew that Hilda went missing as a result of foul play, Rosa would—”

“Not want to get involved,” Cheren interrupted, standing up and walking towards the door. His hand lingered on the doorknob as he looked over his shoulder at N. “She was in the same position as Hilda—an enemy of Ghetsis and Team Plasma. He almost killed her once before. What makes you think she wants to put herself in danger again?”

N shook his head. “It’s not Ghetsis.”

“Whatever. I’ll call Bianca and ask her to come… oh, and I’ll have to ask Alder to watch the gym…” Cheren twisted the knob and opened the door. “Meet back here tomorrow at noon.”

N didn’t plan on leaving it like that. It was exactly the fact that Rosa was so much like Hilda that he wanted her around. And if Hilda really was in danger, and they were about to face it, he knew that Rosa would be of vital help to them. It wasn’t that he doubted his Reshiram and other friends—it was more that he trusted Rosa.

He followed Cheren out of the small work room and continued all the way outside. Tomorrow when he met with Cheren and Bianca, he hoped that Rosa might be standing there with them.

\- - - - -

N loved the Ferris wheel in Nimbasa, and not just because of the astounding mathematics behind its design and implementation. The Rondez-View Ferris Wheel was where he admitted to Hilda that he was the leader of Team Plasma. He hadn’t, in fact, planned to reveal it to her at all, but she considered Team Plasma the enemy—and certainly he didn’t fit into that, he wanted to believe.

For some time, the only reason she walked freely was because of him. The higher-up members of Team Plasma saw her as a threat and wanted her gone, but he named her as one of the people he wanted untouched—she was safe because of his orders, but there was nothing he could do once Team Plasma disbanded.

If he had never spoken to her that first day—if he hadn’t heard her Tepig speak and taken a shine to her—then what would have happened? No matter how he looked at it, she was the other hero, the one who stood by his side. If he was king, then she was queen; it was logic. She would have been there all along.

But if he stayed away, maybe she would have been safe now. Or would she have been worse off?

Either way, he considered the Ferris wheel a special place for the two of them, one that he shared with only one other person: Rosa.

N liked Rosa, though not in the same way that he was fond of Hilda. But he trusted her enough to let her into his special place. Somehow, she had found out that he liked to visit the park on Friday mornings, when it was relatively empty, and she always came to see him and battle. It had to be fate, then, that the day Cheren wanted to meet fell on a Friday. There was just enough time to see Rosa before heading down to Aspertia.

He made his way to Nimbasa at the same time as always. Occasionally Rosa would beat him there, but the park was empty as he headed towards the Ferris wheel. And he didn’t have to wait very long; he saw her hair before he saw her, the two strands erupting from the large twisted buns flowing behind her as she approached. Upon seeing him, she smiled and ran towards him.

“Hi!”

“Rosa, hi,” N greeted, and Rosa bounced on the balls of her feet. She was always energetic, more so than Hilda, but he admired that about her. “I’m glad to see you.”

She laughed, her hands on her hips as she threw her head back. “Oh, something must be wrong if you’re glad to see me,” she joked, but when she met his gaze again and became aware of his somber expression, she frowned. “Wait a minute, something _is_ wrong. Well, if it’s anything that I can help with, I’d be more than happy.”

He wanted Cheren to be here to hear this. “It’s about the trainer I’ve mentioned before, Hilda—the one I said you remind me of?” N asked, and Rosa nodded. “Something has happened. I found her trainer card on the outskirts of Unova, and the nurse at the Aspertia Pokémon Center said that she dropped her Pokémon off and never came back for them.”

“She’s the one I said went to look for you… You think something’s happened to her? Something bad—like… someone’s hurt her?” Rosa shivered at the thought, and when N’s expression didn’t lighten, she gritted her teeth. “I haven’t heard anything, N, I’m sorry. I would have told you if I had.”

“Of course. I know. Cheren, Bianca, and I have decided to go looking for her. We shouldn’t have to travel too far if she was abducted just outside of Unova, if that’s what happened,” N explained.

Rosa was patient; despite her energetic nature being overwhelming at times, she knew the time and place for it, and she listened carefully to N. She took this seriously, as N suspected she would. She was the Champion, after all, and that meant that she had a duty to both the people and Pokémon of this region.

But Cheren had a point. She had already faced danger—she looked death right in the eye just a year ago, and it was irresponsible of N to ask her to do it again. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that someone who could get to Hilda was someone who was highly dangerous. If Rosa didn’t want to go, N wouldn’t be offended.

“I want to help!” Rosa announced, her tiny hands curled into fists. “If you’ll have me, that is. I know Cheren will probably complain about it—I think he just doesn’t want me dirtying my hands, you know, but he’s not so bad. He knows I can take care of myself, and once I decide that, he’ll get over it quickly enough.”

She pegged Cheren completely, which amused N and almost brought a smile to his face even in this solemn atmosphere.

“I’m glad to hear it,” N said with a nod, and Rosa grinned at him. “We planned to meet at noon at Cheren’s gym. Is that too soon for you?”

Rosa jabbed a thumb into her chest, one hand still on her hip. “It’ll be fine. I’m ready for anything at any time!” She blushed a little, lowering her thumb from her chest. “Sorry. That’s pretty lame. But I’ll do everything I can to help you, N. I know that Hilda means a lot to you. I would go around the world looking for my best friend if anything happened to him.”

But Hilda was more than just a best friend to N. He had never had human friends, only Pokémon—Hilda was the first one who he saw as worth befriending, which made her so much more important to him. If anyone asked what she was to him, it would be impossible to answer. Much like “trainer” didn’t describe him, “friend” was too weak a word to describe her.

Hilda would eternally be his savior.


	3. Positive Numbers

N hoped that Reshiram might be able to use Hilda’s blood-soaked trainer card to his advantage, and although it could confirm that the blood was Hilda’s, the dried blood was too old to carry a scent strong enough to track anymore. So, Rosa and N hopped on the dragon’s back and returned to Aspertia where Cheren and Bianca waited without so much as a hint as where to start the search.

It was a little past noon when the two arrived in Aspertia, but Cheren’s brooding expression didn’t faze N in the least. The older of the two, with Rosa by his side, smiled at the once-bespectacled boy. Cheren’s expression lightened only slightly when he noticed Rosa, and he raised a hand in a half-hearted wave.

“Rosa, are you sure about this?” Cheren asked, skipping a greeting entirely, and Rosa exchanged a pointed glance with N. “This could be dangerous. I’m just trying to—”

“Keep me safe, I know.” Rosa smiled, her eyes almost as light as Hilda’s had been. “Luckily for you, I don’t need to be kept safe. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, as I know you know, and as I know you know you’re just having a momentary lapse in judgment.” When Cheren opened his mouth to counter, Rosa held up a hand. “Please. I’m stronger than you.”

“Maybe not…” Cheren’s brooding look was back. “I have no interest in being Champion, so I would never find out.”

Bianca snorted, reminding everyone that she was there, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry. I just thought that was really funny, Cheren. You used to be obsessed with being the best and the strongest and all that. You forgot about it?”

“I’d like to forget, but someone keeps reminding me,” he retorted.

Rosa laughed, but when the sound ceased, suddenly the reason for their meeting rose to the forefront. Any hint of a smile vanished, and when Bianca shuffled her feet on the ground and kicked a rock, all four pairs of eyes followed the pebble down the sidewalk. It was a final reminder that they, now adults in this world, could no longer act as children.

But it remained silent for a moment beyond that one, their serious faces pointed in different directions. An observer might call this encounter awkward, but the four of them soaked it in. They could be together for awhile, after all, and such togetherness required mental preparation. Cheren, for one, wasn’t sure he could handle N for a prolonged period of time.

They didn’t realize, however, that the four were not all in the same place.

“I’m not going,” Bianca finally announced, and the three other heads pointed towards her. Cheren appeared the most shocked; his jaw went slightly slack, and he made a motion to push up the glasses he no longer wore as if he had once had a habit of doing so.

“Why not?” Rosa, the first one to pull it together, asked.

It was fair to note that Bianca was Hilda’s best girlfriend. In the past, the two of them spent hours braiding each other’s hair and talking about the cute boys down the road (which sometimes included Cheren, not that they would ever admit _that_ ). Bianca was gentler than Cheren, so she was the one to whom Hilda would go when she was upset. Needless to say, many a secret had been shared between them.

Their reactions, then, were not completely unfounded.

“I’m sorry. I want to come.” Bianca’s eyes began to water, and she curled her fingers around the cuffs of her sleeves. “Professor Juniper has work for me to do, and I can’t just leave. Besides, I’m _good_ at the work I do here. If I were to come with you, I’d be useless. The three of you will be fine the way you are.”

“You wouldn’t be useless,” Cheren protested, but even N could tell his argument was not in full confidence. “Hilda would want you to come.”

“Oh, I know. I _do_ know.” Bianca nodded, a smile forced on her lips. “She was always great about including me in everything. But I might as well keep my job since I’m actually halfway decent at it.”

Cheren began to protest again, but it was Rosa who stopped him this time. “It’d be selfish of us to insist you come, Bianca. We can’t take you away from your work. But please keep us in your thoughts. We can let you know if there’s any way you can help out from here, okay?” She smiled, and Bianca nodded.

N found the interactions of humans curious. Having been raised partially by Pokémon—for the first few years of his life, anyway—and then raised poorly by humans, he didn’t fully grasp the nuances of social cues and rules. It was normal, exceedingly so, to act selfishly in this culture, while it might differ greatly in another.

He didn’t think that Bianca was being selfish, per se, but it _was_ possible that her best friend was in mortal danger…

And then there was Rosa, the one who acted in place of the three of them to make the final judgment. This, too, happened often as far as N could tell. It was for the “greater good”—the good of the group as a whole, save for maybe Cheren.

“Fine.” Cheren relaxed and managed a smile for Bianca. “Thanks for coming to see us off, then. We’ll see you soon.”

“Be careful.”

Cheren turned on N, eyeing the dragon behind him carefully. “Can you take us to where you found Hilda’s trainer card?”

“Of course.”

N led the way on Reshiram’s back, and Cheren and Rosa followed behind on their own Pokémon. For Rosa and N, there was no guilt riding with them at leaving Bianca behind, but Cheren couldn’t shake the feeling that something more needed to be said. Still, it wasn’t as if he had a choice anymore, and he wasn’t going to leave this to just N and Rosa.

They landed just outside of Unova’s boundaries where the mountains rose in the west, and a light rain had started to fall on them. N hopped down off of Reshiram’s back, and the dragon sat down in a comfortable patch of grass not too far from the humans while Cheren and Rosa’s Pokémon returned to their Poké Balls. N elected not to comment on the injustice of it, knowing that he, too, had Pokémon with him in Balls, but three years ago he wouldn’t have been such a pushover. But even he knew that he had to get along with those two.

“Just there,” N said, pointing to the relative location of Hilda’s trainer card. Cheren stared at the spot with a hand on his chin, as if some sign might pop out of the ground that read, “Hilda was here.”

The sign wouldn’t be necessary. The card was proof enough that Hilda had once been there, however long ago that was. Whether it was dropped or intentionally left behind was a bigger question—what had been happening at the exact moment Hilda passed this spot? Was she being pulled by her hair, bloodied and unable to fight back, to who-knew-where and dropped the card in hopes of being found? Or was this all one big mistake?

No. There were no mistakes, just as there were no coincidences. N considered himself an optimist, but probability was _always_ positive, whether the outcome good or bad.

“All right.” Rosa stood with her hands on her hips, her gaze firm on the mountains towering above them. “There are a couple of possibilities here—and please tell me if my ideas are ridiculous because I’m no detective. But obviously something happened out here. Hilda probably stopped at the Pokémon Center to heal her Pokémon—this is either before she began her search for N or during some unplanned return here.”

“Before she left, most likely. Why would she return randomly? It would be towards the beginning of her search, so there’d be no need for her to come back to Unova,” Cheren countered, and Rosa nodded.

“But if her stop at the Pokémon Center was exactly three years ago, she would have been recognizable as the Champion. The nurse should have known who she was,” Rosa suggested, to which Cheren had no counterargument. “N, did the nurse ever explicitly state that Hilda dropped off her Pokémon three years ago? Or would you say it was an estimate?”

N shouldn’t have let that slip past him. “Estimate. She wasn’t sure it was Hilda, either, but she knew that the girl had dropped off an Emboar.”

Rosa nodded, her expression passive, but Cheren’s lips were pursed in annoyance. “So, my thought is that it _was_ Hilda, but it wasn’t three years ago. I think it was a little less—after Iris took over as Champion, so the excitement about Hilda died down. Maybe two to two-and-a-half years ago. The nurse wouldn’t have recognized Hilda anymore, and it would be plenty of time for her to decide to quit and return to Unova. Aspertia would make sense as the first stop home, too, since it’s the closest to the mountains.”

The boys remained quiet. Rosa said she was no detective, but she certainly had more of a mind for it than either of them. What she said made sense—Hilda was on her way back from searching for N when she was ambushed, most likely specifically after Hilda was without her Pokémon. A nurse who had never seen her before wouldn’t necessarily peg her as the ex-Champion…

And then Hilda was brought out to these mountains, dropped her trainer card, and was—where?

“It would be perfect timing for Team Plasma, too,” Cheren offered. “Hilda showed back up while they were formulating their next plan. Ghetsis wanted her out of the way, so—”

“It wasn’t Ghetsis,” N reiterated again, for what felt like the twentieth time, and Cheren rolled his eyes. “He wouldn’t.”

“Yes, but we’re talking two years ago—my encounter with Ghetsis only occurred a year ago,” Rosa countered, though it was obvious by her nonchalant tone that she was only playing the devil’s advocate. “Who is to say that he didn’t remove Hilda from the equation ahead of time knowing that he was planning another go? She was the one who stopped him first, after all. He lost heart _after_ I defeated him, not after Hilda did.”

N didn’t like it. He would admit that Ghetsis had done some terrible things—and he had been an even worse father to N. Even worse, he didn’t want it to sound as if he was sticking up for Ghetsis, because he wasn’t. But N believed he knew the man well enough to say that he wouldn’t hurt Hilda—not when she willingly removed herself from the equation by going to search for N. There would be no point in that wasted energy.

“There’s no point in thinking about who the culprit is when we don’t even have any leads,” Cheren said hastily, and Rosa nodded. “All we know is that Hilda went to the Pokémon Center—at some point within the last three years—and never returned. Even that isn’t one hundred percent set in stone. She passed through here _at some point_ and dropped her trainer card with her own blood on it. Now what?”

“Well,” N began, looking from the direction they had come to the mountains. “Assuming the Pokémon Center as point A and this spot as point B, there is a linear path of travel. The shortest distance from one point to the next is always a straight path, and that suggests that point C would fall along the same line. Which leads…”

N followed the invisible path with his finger, pointing it towards the mountains. Cheren and Rosa both held their breath. It wasn’t that far from home…

“Let’s look for more clues before we go climb up a mountain, though. There might be something else around here,” Cheren suggested.

N doubted that there would be anything else—the trainer card was already a pertinent enough clue, and the chances of finding another item of substance in this area was low based on the geography and time range. But he humored Cheren anyway, deciding that it was better to be thorough and bet on that small chance.

The three of them spread out, looking along the grass and under rocks and in the dirt for any other sign that Hilda had been there—and hopefully a sign that she had been there of her own accord. None of them were sure what that might look like, but none of them expected that the reason Hilda never returned was because of foul play.

They searched longer than necessary, perhaps due to desperation to find anything else that would connect to her. The sun had begun to set, and the winds by the mountains chilled the air. Still, they looked… and looked… and looked.

“… Come.”

Rosa raised her head and glanced around, holding her breath as she searched for a source of the sound. “Did you hear that?” she finally whispered to her male companions, not that they could hear her from where they were. “Did you hear that voice just then? It sounded… familiar.” Rosa took a step forward towards the mountains, her feet crunching in the grass, and then another and another. Her eyes glazed over a little as she walked. “It said—”

A hand closed around her wrist, and she gasped, shaking herself back into full consciousness. When she turned back around, N let go.

“Where are you going?” Cheren asked, jogging over to the two of them. He glanced between them, and Rosa frowned.

“Didn’t you hear that? That voice?”

Cheren made a face and shook his head. “No.”

The three went silent, straining themselves to hear something— _anything_ —but after a minute or so passed, Cheren shrugged. Even N couldn’t hear anything, and he considered his hearing particularly strong. Still, Rosa pushed it—she couldn’t have imagined it, she couldn’t have just been hearing things, there was a voice…

But the boys still didn’t believe her.

Until they turned around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These first several chapters start off quite short because the story I wrote before this was a series of 100-word drabbles. So going back to something longer immediately following that was a shock to my system, I think.
> 
> The total word count for this fic surpasses 50,000 words.


	4. Darkness Falls

N, Cheren, and Rosa were all familiar with the person facing them, but it was N who knew him the best—and even then, it wasn’t that well. The group calling themselves the Shadow Triad, of which this man was a member, was mysterious at best and obsessive at worst. As it went, Ghetsis had saved their lives—proof, at least to N, that the man had some humanity in him—and the Shadow Triad swore upon those same saved lives to serve him.

Their servitude went about as far as Ghetsis, though; N had _some_ control over them when he was king of Team Plasma, but he suspected now that it was only because of Ghetsis that this was the case. When they appeared, which wasn’t especially often, it was usually to do the bidding of some higher power, despite their own power being enough for them not to be followers.

N had used them several times to bring Hilda where he needed her to go, and he once appreciated their undying loyalty to Team Plasma. They treated him well, anyway, much like Concordia and Anthea. But, from what he understood, they had been particularly difficult for Rosa to handle during Team Plasma’s resurfacing.

For the Shadow Triad to appear here of all places, though, didn’t make much sense to N—or, at the very least, he didn’t _want_ it to make sense. Was it possible that Ghetsis had a connection to Hilda’s disappearance after all? Despite N’s protests, was Ghetsis the cause of this mess? And N had been so sure he understood his father…

No, he hadn’t understood him the last time, either, or the time before that. N didn’t actually have that much interaction with Ghetsis growing up in the castle. The others tended to him, and he would have rather spent time with the Pokémon, anyway. But the neglect that N suffered at Ghetsis’s hands wasn’t unimportant to him.

Still, forgiveness was a power—and one that came easily to N. He was more than willing to forgive Ghetsis for everything. Even though the man had used N to achieve his own ends, he was still a human being. And though N saw time and time again through the Pokémon that came to him that humans were cruel and evil beings, he had to believe otherwise.

He had to… because of Hilda.

Was Hilda not proof that humans could be creatures that cared for and loved others? Was she not proof that humans could be beautiful creatures that respected all other creatures? She was the light in the darkness that made things that much brighter, and N recognized that and respected it. So, if she could show humanity, couldn’t Ghetsis?

Even so, Rosa had a point in saying that Hilda disappeared before Ghetsis lost heart. But N wanted to believe that it was impossible for him to be the cause.

To find the Shadow Triad here—or for one of them to find N, Cheren, and Rosa here—didn’t bode well for N’s argument. There was no such thing as a coincidence, which meant that the Shadow Triad was somehow connected to all of this. The probability of their involvement was high, much to N’s chagrin.

“Greetings, my lord N.” The man, whose mouth was covered with a black cloth—similar to the black clothes he wore—bowed to N. When he rose, he kept his eyes level and on N, making it clear that the other two were of no concern to him.

But that was not the case for the other two members of the Shadow Triad. Suddenly, N, Cheren, and Rosa were surrounded by the black-clad trio. One slouched behind Rosa, his sudden appearance such a shock to her that she stepped forward into N; the last of the three stood distantly from Cheren, but it was enough to make them all a bit antsy.

The first member that had appeared before them finally looked at Cheren and Rosa. “The gym leader of Aspertia Gym and the Champion. We know you well.”

“Yeah, I know you, too,” Rosa shot back, and there was movement behind the fabric covering the Shadow’s mouth: a smile, perhaps. “I hope you’re not planning on trying any funny business because I’m afraid that you’re out-skilled. I, myself, have taken care of you more times than I feel like counting, so you best just tell us what we need to know.”

“We were only curious of our lord N’s well-being, nothing more.” The Shadow Triad all stepped closer, but no one else backed down. Rosa put her hands on her hips, standing the tallest, and N couldn’t help but recall how much she reminded him of Hilda. “Should he choose to return with us, we would—”

Cheren laughed. “Return?” he repeated incredulously. “Sorry, but ‘Lord N’ is with us. Now tell us what we need to know. Are you responsible for Hilda’s disappearance?”

The Shadow Triad hummed in unison, and they circled to the right, each in front of someone different now. Cheren, though always confident, couldn’t hide his discomfort, and even Rosa let her hands drop from her hips. The two glanced back and forth between the Shadows, but N kept his gaze on the one in front of him.

“Who’s Hilda?” the three finally asked.

\- - - - -

Chargestone Cave was particularly dry, which only helped to maximize the magnetic properties of the metallic rocks within. N had only been here a couple of times, but he liked it—scientifically speaking, this cave was a rare gem. For the most part, caves were damp, but not this one. It made his hair stand on end, in a pleasant way, anyway. Electricity was a marvelous thing, especially when it appeared naturally.

He sat on one of the stagnant rocks, a Joltik rubbing its face against his foot. There had been news that Hilda was in the area, and he wanted to see her again. Of course, there was no telling when she might appear here, but Ghetsis’s helpers had set up a Galvantula nest in front of the cave; once that was removed, he’d know she was here.

It wasn’t of his own free will that he was here, though. Ghetsis was the one who wanted to find out more about Hilda. N was just along for the ride.

N dropped a hand near the Joltik, and it climbed into his palm. “Want to join me for a little while?” he asked it, and the Pokémon stared up at him with its four eyes. Its voice spoke loud and clear, and N smiled. “Thanks. You’ll be a great help to me.”

Surely once he found Hilda, the two would battle again. It would be the fourth time—after their first meeting in Accumula, they had battled twice more in Nacrene and Nimbasa respectively. Of course, now that she knew he was the king of Team Plasma, she was more than eager to fight for her own beliefs.

N stood at the sound of movement outside the cave. He squinted as light poured through where the Galvantula nest once was, and a figure walked through into the mouth of the cave.

Hilda barely walked three feet before two Shadows surrounded her. N asked for their help, too, even though they swore their allegiance mostly to Ghetsis. But they were nothing if not loyal; he’d give them that.

“… Come.”

They pushed her forward to N, but she glanced between the two Shadows in a panic before even setting her gaze on N.

“My lord N, we brought the one you wanted.”

He turned towards Hilda and smiled, but it was not a pleasant look that Hilda gave him in that moment. “What the heck was that, N?” she demanded, walking closer to him and poking a finger against his chest. He liked how informally she spoke to him now. It made him think that they were somehow closer.

“Ah, yes.” N continued to smile at her, not that she appreciated it. “That was the Shadow Triad, just now. Ghetsis enlisted them in Team Plasma. Apparently, they were the ones who prepared the Galvantula nest at the cave entrance.”

He turned, staring at the magnetized rock not too far from where they stood. He could see the static electricity bounce off the floor close to it, the little sparks making the ground hot around it. The ground was warm enough where they stood, too, but the rubber soles of his sneakers stopped the tingle of the static.

“Chargestone Cave…” N reached a hand out towards the rock, and a spark jumped between his hand and the stone. It didn’t hurt badly. “I like this place. Formulas express electricity and its connection to Pokémon… If people did not exist, this would be an ideal place.” He paused and turned back to face Hilda, who listened despite his rambling. “You have been chosen, you know. Does it surprise you I said that?”

Hilda grinned, standing with one hand on her hip and the other around the strap of her bag. “Chosen? Well, sure, I guess so.”

N nodded. “Of course. Such news should be a surprise.” He glanced down, where the Joltik he befriended was circling around his feet. “I told Ghetsis about you and your friends. After I did, he apparently used the Shadow Triad to find out about you. Cheren is pursuing the ideal of strength. Poor Bianca has faced the sad truth that not everyone can become stronger.” Hilda’s grip tightened uncomfortably around her strap. “And you are not swayed either way—more of a neutral presence. Which is apparently a good thing.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have told her that Ghetsis was looking into things, but he thought she had a right to know where she stood. Being neutral and average, that wasn’t something to be ashamed of, and clearly she wasn’t. It was more that the Shadow Triad’s observations of her friends made her feel badly.

“That’s not…” Hilda didn’t finish her sentence.

“Team Plasma will be waiting for you ahead. Ghetsis wants to see what kind of Pokémon trainer you really are.”

N walked away with the Joltik clung to his leg, and the hum of his footsteps on the ground served as a proper distraction from his beating heart. That was unusual. Maybe it was the increase of electrical forces here that stimulated his heart rate, but that would have occurred long before now. His face only began to burn when Hilda walked into the cave.

The Shadow Triad was waiting not too far into the cave for him. “Guide her to Team Plasma,” N ordered and continued forward.

And that they did. N waited towards the entrance for Hilda, but the Shadow Triad was her guide and observer. They were to report back to Ghetsis at the end of today, too. N didn’t particularly like it—he felt as though he could tell Ghetsis enough about her—but he didn’t dare talk back to his father, even if N was the rightful king.

It didn’t matter. The Shadow Triad would never know more about Hilda than N did—he’d make sure of that.

\- - - - -

The breeze at the foot of the mountains had become stronger now that the sun had set. There was still an orange hue on the horizon, but it was too dark to discern one mountain from the next. Even the Shadow Triad blended into the background, though their white hair was a definite contrast—a little disturbingly so, in Cheren’s opinion—that blew wildly in the wind.

“Hilda,” Rosa repeated coolly, managing to pull herself back together before Cheren could. “Surely if you remember us, you remember her.”

“Ghetsis made you find information about her, and I had you find her for me a few times,” N offered.

A harmonious “Ah!” erupted from them, though it was clear that their memory had no fault. Whatever game they were playing, they intended on playing it by their own rules. N questioned whether their appearance here was of their own accord or by someone else’s orders. The way the Shadow Triad was acting, he couldn’t expect the latter.

“Hilda, yes, I remember her,” one of the Shadows admitted, and they circled around the small group yet again. The one speaking was in front of Rosa now, and N watched as Rosa slowly slid a hand down to her bag. “Ghetsis had us tail her once before, years and years ago back when he still had his heart. She was the chosen one, was she not? But she really wasn’t anything special at all, just a normal girl.”

“Two or three years ago?” Cheren asked.

But the Shadow shook his head. “No, this was longer ago than that, back when our lord N was still the Plasma King.”

Rosa grabbed a Poké Ball and clicked the center button, and an Umbreon growled when its feet hit the grass. “I’m sorry, but I think we’re better off defeating these three than letting them go free, whether they have anything to do with Hilda’s disappearance or not.”

The Shadow Triad members each moved back, but they moved so quickly that it was as if their feet didn’t even touch the ground. N knew that they had mysterious abilities—they were hard to recognize, and one could forget they were there after even a moment. They materialized and vanished like wind, but it was unclear if it was a trick of the eyes or a true ability.

Three Bisharps entered the scene, their movements hostile as N sent out a Ninetales—one that he befriended not long ago—and Cheren sent out his Stoutland.

The battle was not a long one. Despite Rosa’s Umbreon not having a type advantage, it was so strong that the type matchups didn’t matter at all. It scooted around the field, taking down its opponent first and then moving on to help the next ally.

“Use Toxic!” Rosa shouted, and Umbreon spat at the Bisharp fighting the Ninetales. With a blast of fire from the Ninetales, and the poison from which it now suffered, the Bisharp fell like the last, with only one enemy remaining.

Three-against-one, the last Bisharp didn’t stand much of a chance, and there was some quiet snickering as the last Shadow called his Bisharp to return. N and Cheren brought their Pokémon back, leaving Rosa’s Umbreon alone on the field.

Rosa glowered at the Shadow Triad, but it wasn’t long before they spread out again and circled around the three one more time. The radius was large—Cheren, N, and Rosa were spread out across the field now, but the Shadows stood fairly close to each of them. The Umbreon’s growling would not cease.

“Lord N, it is our desire to bring you back with us.” The Shadow in front of N held out his hand towards the green-haired boy. “Come.”

“We need to know where Hilda is,” N countered, knowing full well that he might have to make a bargain to get Hilda back, if it came down to it. It was the only reason that he didn’t adamantly deny them, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Cheren staring at him. “Do you have anything to do with her disappearance?”

The Shadows glanced at each other, and then the one in front of N raised his arms with a shrug. “Hmm.” The small shift in the cloth covering the Shadow’s mouth indicated a smile. “I don’t remember.”

“Don’t—” Cheren’s expression was murderous as he turned towards that Shadow, but Rosa recognized that façade well. “You—what have you done with her? Where is she?” His voice strained as he begged for answers, and he reached a hand towards the glasses that weren’t there. Cheren wasn’t the type to lose his temper, so pain led to heartbreak instead.

“Ah, but do you remember this?” the Shadow behind Cheren asked, though the question was directed only at the other Shadow Triad members. “We once set our sights on the gym leaders. The Striaton leaders were no challenge. You remember? We gave up on the other gym leaders because so many chose to retire on their own. But here’s one right now, and he was an opponent of Lord Ghetsis’s plans once, too.”

Cheren spun around, glancing between the three Shadows, each of whom had gotten closer in seconds. He barely had time to reach for a Poké Ball again before the Shadow Triad ran at him. Rosa shouted for them to stop, and N called for Reshiram—but it was too late. They pinned Cheren, and the fabric over their mouths flickered again.

“We beg your pardon, Lord N,” one of the Shadows said, and they were gone like the night, disappearing into the darkness around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate battles scenes, so for me to switch from my normal first-person style to third-person AND added in battles was no fun for me. And there are more battles to come, too. Hopefully you readers will enjoy it for me. ;_;


	5. The Lost Ones

“No, no, no, no, come back!” Rosa shouted, and she spun around frantically. “Umbreon—uh, no, where did they just go? They can’t have gotten very far!”

Reshiram landed at N’s side, nudging the human with its head. I cannot smell him, it told him.

Cheren was gone. So early in their search, they had already met a danger that they couldn’t match, even though they had defeated the Shadow Triad in battle? N had assumed that whatever dangers they came up against, surely with Rosa and Cheren, they would be able to handle it. Yet here they were, two in number now.

“Reshiram can’t smell him. They’ve gotten away,” N told Rosa, and she turned to him with wide and panicked eyes.

“How?” she demanded. Her voice was screeching, though it wasn’t any louder than N’s. She wiped a hand against her cheek and shook her head. “No, I can’t accept that. They were right here two seconds ago! There’s no possible way for them to have already gotten away—they were in front of us, N! We should’ve been able to stop them!”

Rosa’s reaction surprised N. It wasn’t that he wasn’t bothered by what just happened—he was. He wished that he could have stopped the Shadow Triad, too, and he wished that time would slow down a little bit so he could accept what just happened. But there was a one hundred percent chance that time would keep moving forward.

Still, even though N was upset, too, Rosa’s reaction didn’t make sense to him. What was the point of panicking when there was nothing either of them could do now? She knew Cheren better than he did—though maybe they had met each other the same amount of times as N and Cheren had prior to this—but she couldn’t do anything now.

Nothing, at least, except get him back, just like Hilda.

“Where do we even start to look now? Do we look around the rest of the mountain, or—or—” Rosa stopped and turned to face N. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be…” She shook her head again, a hand pressed to her forehead. “We just watched someone get kidnapped right in front of us. And we couldn’t do a thing. Who exactly are they? Who is the Shadow Triad?”

Who, indeed. The Shadow Triad didn’t even have names, or if they did, they never told anyone. Maybe Ghetsis knew them, but he had always referred to the mysterious trio as just the “Shadow Triad”, like the rest. Even individually, they were just shadows wandering the earth, not really people but not really inhuman.

“They have abilities that other humans do not have,” N began, knowing that this was as good a place to start as any. “Consider humans with psychic abilities. Most cannot hone them fully, but there are some that can. The Shadow Triad does not differ very much. They can teleport—or, perhaps, move so quickly that they are invisible to the average human. It isn’t clear what they can do, exactly, but they _are_ powerful.”

“No, not as powerful as us,” Rosa countered, waggling a finger at N. “I’ve fought them… many times. You know them, too. They shouldn’t be able to out-skill us, even if they can outrun us. If we can corner them at their hideout, in a place where they can’t escape freely like they did just now, we should be able to stop them and bring them to the police or something.”

The police… Rosa realized after the words slipped from her mouth that they should have just gone to them in the first place. Who were they to try to find Hilda? She had never met the girl, but here she was standing in the middle of a field with N trying to find the former Champion. Rosa wanted to help N—that was all she wanted—but maybe this was beyond her control.

That should have been the first thing they did, but now they were involved. Cheren was gone, Hilda was still missing, and neither N nor Rosa had any hint as to where they had gone. The only way they could move now was forward; she wanted to go back, not because she was scared but because she regretted their handling of that situation.

But it was too late for that now.

“Rosa. Rosa!”

She hadn’t noticed that she was holding her breath, but when N’s hand touched hers, she gasped for air. His skin burned cold, but that wasn’t what shocked her. Rosa had the unfortunate ability to separate herself from reality when she thought too hard about something, and when she reentered her mind, it was like crashing into the ground.

N retracted his hand. He didn’t make an effort to touch other people, but it wasn’t the first time he had. He removed his hand from Rosa’s with haste, however, knowing that this was a little much for them.

“I’m sorry.” Rosa took a deep breath, and her eyes focused again. “This isn’t helping. I’ve seen some horrible things, N, and you know that. But they were right in front of us—we could’ve ended this now, already, and instead we let one of our friends get taken. I want to find them. I’m _going_ to find them, N.”

N smiled, which earned him a returned smile from Rosa. “I appreciate your determinedness,” he told her, and she laughed, albeit a little bitterly. “I stand by what I said before. Assuming that the events follow a linear path of travel, our best bet is still to explore the mountains. Unfortunately…”

“Unfortunately?”

“If Reshiram can’t smell Cheren, it is also possible that they have escaped this area. Searching the mountain could be potentially useless, but why would they have come here if they weren’t following a linear path of travel?” N shook his head, serious once more. Rosa rubbed her chin. “There could be clues up there regardless of where Cheren is.”

Rosa nodded, and without another word, she began walking towards the mountain slope. Her Umbreon was quick at her heels, and N followed behind with his dragon friend.

It wasn’t exactly an easy climb, and neither N nor Rosa knew what they were looking for. But there had to be something—anything—that could help them. There had to be some clue that pointed them in the right direction, but what could that be?

The moon had risen by the time they made it to a reasonable stopping point, and Rosa leaned against a tree. “I don’t want to stop,” she said, “but I know we should. Do you think Cheren is okay? Is the Shadow Triad… capable of hurting someone?”

N didn’t know the answer to that. On the one hand, if he said no, which he couldn’t say in full confidence, that would mean that Hilda was alive somewhere—or she was dead at someone else’s hands. On the other, if he said yes, it didn’t bode well for either Hilda or Cheren. He wanted to believe they were okay.

So, N did the only thing he could think of in that situation: he lied. He didn’t believe in lying—it was one of the reasons he thought humans couldn’t be trusted; humans were amazingly good at lying, and he hated that. But if he told the truth, that he didn’t know what the Shadow Triad could do, then Rosa would be hurt.

In a game of probability, there was a fifty-fifty chance that someone could be harmful or harmless. But it wasn’t that easy when human will came into play. Humans were not as simple as rolling a die or flipping a coin or drawing a card from a deck. The fifty-fifty could turn into forty-sixty or ninety-ten or anything else but chance. There were no coincidences, but there were situations that couldn’t rely on probability.

“No, they aren’t,” N said. “Cheren will be fine.”

\- - - - -

When Cheren came to—the Shadow Triad must have knocked him unconscious, but he couldn’t remember when—he found himself in darkness. There was a sliver of light pouring in from the floor, perhaps in the crack between the door and the floor. He crawled forward, but a gate of some sort prevented him from reaching the light.

He stood up, running his hand along the bars of the gated wall until he found a handle on the other side. No good. He tugged on the handle to no avail, and he let his head fall against the bars in defeat. Wherever he was, it didn’t appear that there was an viable exit. So, what was he supposed to do now? He wasn’t so weak—no, he wasn’t weak at all—that he would give up. Cowards did that, and he was no coward.

Ah, but he had been weak enough for the Shadow Triad to capture him—in front of Rosa and N, too. Truth be told, he hadn’t known what had hit him. One second he had been asking for answers about Hilda, and the next, they had grabbed him and knocked him out. They had moved so quickly, he had no time to react.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t get stronger still. He would have to redeem himself now.

The smell hit him after a moment, and he covered his mouth and nose with his hands. It was rancid and rotten, but it lingered like something old—not too potent but still there. After a moment, he got used to it, but he couldn’t help but wonder what horrid thing he was currently breathing.

He pulled himself to his feet, glancing around the blank darkness. If only his eyes would adjust faster, he might be able to think of something. He blinked a few times, as if that might help his eyes, but it wasn’t until a few moments later that he could make out several outlines in whatever room this was.

Cheren walked towards what had to be a sink, and he twisted the single knob on it. No water came out. There was a bucket in the corner that was dry inside, but he knew for what it was supposed to be used. Cheren suppressed the urge to vomit.

“Barbaric,” he muttered, and turned around to look at the rest of the room.

It had to be a cell of some sort. But where would the Shadow Triad have brought him that would have a cell? It wasn’t as if they would bring him to a prison—this was a bit more medieval than that, at least he imagined that was the case considering the bucket. And what access would they have to a prison?

N’s castle… that was possible. Although, Rosa mentioned having been there a few times, so wouldn’t she have run into the Shadow Triad if this place was here? Unless they hadn’t been there in some time…

No, it was impossible to tell. He couldn’t make assumptions until he had more evidence to back them up. It wasn’t as if he could send a message to N or Rosa. Unless—

The Shadow Triad was a step ahead. All of his Poké Balls had been removed, along with everything else that could have been helpful to him at some point, like his Xtransceiver. There was no possibility of sending along a message then, not that he could tell the others where he was. What was he supposed to do now?

Cheren sat down against the wall, letting his head rest against the stone as he closed his eyes. How could he have been so stupid, letting himself get caught like that? Was this what happened to Hilda, too? Had they ambushed her so that she couldn’t fight back? If that was true, he didn’t feel so bad about being taken.

Ghetsis had to be behind this—with the Shadow Triad making a move, there was no way it wasn’t the villainous leader, right? The Shadow Triad had always done his bidding, at least according to what Hilda used to say about them. And now that Ghetsis was out of commission… well, maybe he was planning something from the sidelines.

It hurt his head to think about it too long, so he opened his eyes again. Straight across from his cell, he could make out another, the silver bars glinting slightly from the small amount of light coming in from the door. He crawled forward on his hands and knees and squinted, trying to make out something that might help him.

The first thing he could make out was something small. He couldn’t tell where in the cell it was exactly—on the floor somewhere close to the cell bars—and he could barely make out a shape. But once he stared long enough, he realized that it had to be a hat. Though grayscale in the darkness, most of the hat was white, but there was some sort of logo on the front, like a Poké Ball or something.

“Logo?” Cheren pressed himself closer against the bars of his cell, staring at the hat. The logo… was familiar. But why?

And then he remembered. It came back all at once, the many times he saw that hat flashing through his memory. How could he have not recognized it in the first place? Maybe it was because when he thought of her, he thought of her face, her eyes, her smile, her little nose. Everything else sort of faded away.

But the hat came back.

They were the lost ones, but now one of them was found.

He gripped the cell bars and stood up, everything coming in clearer as he called her name: “Hilda.”


	6. Sleep Talk

N and Rosa made camp on the side of the mountain, but it was at that point that they realized they brought no food or water besides that which they already had for their Pokémon. It was too late to go looking for food, so they settled down anyway and managed to nod off to sleep. It helped that they were already exhausted.

Rosa, a little paranoid after what happened at the foot of the mountain, snuggled up close against her Serperior. N leaned against Reshiram, running his hand over it in a repetitive motion; it was soothing being so close to it, but that didn’t stop N from startling himself awake in the middle of the night over and over again.

“Cher… en…”

N couldn’t see Rosa from where he slept, or _attempted_ to sleep, but he could hear her mumbling through the night. He wondered if she talked in her sleep all the time or if this was just now. She had always been so brave whenever he met her—but he knew that people had strange ways of coping with their stress. Ghetsis had almost killed her once before, and he imagined that this had to change things for her.

“Mur…”

She exhaled loudly, and he could hear her roll over. The Serperior around her growled low, but then silence settled around the camp once more. N grabbed the void cube attached by a chain to his belt loop, twisting it in his hands for several minutes before giving up and letting his head fall back against Reshiram.

“Nnnnn…”

What was he supposed to do?

“Der…”

N sat up, crawling forward on his hands and knees until he could see Rosa. Her hands were clenched, and her face was strained. Was that what she always looked like when she slept—so completely terrified? Was her normal attitude just a façade, and she was actually not as brave as she appeared?

Maybe Hilda looked like that when she slept, too. Rosa and Hilda were a lot alike, after all. But as N watched Rosa sleep, he realized that the two had to be at least a little bit different. N’s heart didn’t skip a beat just looking at Rosa the way it did with Hilda, nor did he get the strange urge—or, at the very least, irrational urge—to touch her, either.

But looking at Rosa was enough to remind him of the girl he loved. It was love, wasn’t it? N didn’t buy into that concept, but it was a label one might give, anyway.

“Hey.”

Rosa’s eyes had fluttered open, and she watched N with a small smile. Was she not aware that she had been dreaming in some sort of terror just moments before, or was she faking a smile because she was aware?

N pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “Hey.”

“You should get to sleep. I’m sure tomorrow will be a long day, and you look exhausted enough as it is,” she muttered, before rolling over onto her side. Her Serperior rested its head on top of hers, and N managed a smile. In that sense, too, Hilda and Rosa were a lot alike—their Pokémon respected them more than he could have ever expected.

He closed his eyes, and he let sleep take him over, where, unlike Rosa, he was free from the problems of the day.

\- - - - -

Rosa was right; it was a long day.

They reached the summit of the mountain, and a strong breeze made visibility particularly poor. Reshiram flew around and searched below for anything that might help them find Hilda but returned with no clues. Meanwhile, Rosa and N searched the ground, and the hours passed by without any results.

“Do you know you talk in your sleep?”

Rosa’s eyes shot up to N’s, and the shock in her wide eyes shifted to acceptance. “I’ve been having nightmares for a long time, ever since…” She rubbed her hands together and turned her gaze down, clearly pretending to search again. She didn’t need to finish the sentence for N to know what she was talking about. Ghetsis had almost gotten her once, too.

So, her smile _was_ a façade. Her smile, her energy, her confidence…

“Let’s keep looking,” she ordered.

“What did you dream about last night?” N asked, too curious to accept her demand. Her expression darkened, and she stomped away without answering his question. He followed close behind her, asking again, and she practically growled at him. “You mentioned Cheren. You were dreaming about him, weren’t you?”

“Of course. I’m worried about him. Let’s keep looking,” she repeated quickly after her brief response, though it was enough to appease N.

They continued their search in silence, combing one side of the mountaintop before moving onto the other, and there was nothing. N had, admittedly, expected to find some secret fortress on the side of the mountain, as illogical as that sounded. The probability, he knew, was low, but he couldn’t help but think it.

Rosa, on the other hand, was a little more pessimistic. As time passed, minutes turning into hours of the two humans and their Pokémon searching desperately, she grew more and more frustrated. N heard her muttering to herself again, as though she had fallen asleep again. “Shadow Triad…” she kept murmuring.

After several hours had passed, the two humans let their Pokémon go play, though not too far away, and they sat on a nice spot overlooking a deep drop.

They both couldn’t say what they already knew.

Finally, Rosa sighed. “There’s nothing up here.” She put a hand to the side of her face, her eyes wide with realization. “We’ve wasted a whole day—Cheren and Hilda are waiting for us, and we wasted a whole day searching a mountain without finding anything.” Her gaze softened, but she didn’t move her hand. “What do we do now?”

N didn’t know what to say, and he usually managed a response for questions like that. But what was he supposed to say? Rosa, who was usually calm and collected, was beginning to lose herself—no, she had already lost a bit of herself when Cheren was taken. He didn’t understand, and if he couldn’t, how could he know where to start?

Well, sometimes a solution presented itself when one began the proof, even if the starting point wasn’t always clear. It was another mathematical truth, or at the very least a strategy that had yet to be proven.

“Do you regret coming with me?” he asked, which under normal circumstances would probably be much too forward to ask, and Rosa’s eyes widened. But after a moment, her gaze relaxed and she gave a small, forced smile. And even without the verbalization, that was all the answer anyone else would ever need.

But Rosa knew N, so she made herself nod. “Sorry. I know it’s only been, what, twelve hours—and we spent eight of them sleeping. But I guess I expected something else from this—to go sweeping into their stronghold and save Hilda in a day’s work.” She scooped her hand in front of her face as if to emphasize the “sweeping” and laughed bitterly. “That’s how I’ve been trained, anyway. This is unusual for me. We have no leads, we’re down a man and now have to locate two people…”

“I’m sorry.”

Rosa waved her hands frantically. “No, no, don’t apologize! This is my fault. I’m so used to playing the hero… I was conditioned to it after dealing with Ghetsis and Team Plasma, so that was why I jumped on board when you asked me to help. It’s really selfish, I know.” She reached out and took N’s hand, smiling even though N’s gaze was now on their entwined fingers instead of her face. “I want Hilda to be okay. I do. But I’m not sure I can help you.”

N nodded, slipping his hand away from Rosa’s. “Would you like to go home?”

“I’ll stay. It hasn’t even been a whole day, so I don’t know how things will change, you know?” She put her hands on her hips now, much like Hilda did when she felt confident about something. “I wish we had some sort of lead. Where do you think the Shadow Triad would go? Back to your castle or something?”

“No. Not my castle… But that is a start.” N grabbed his void cube, twirling it in his hand again. It was a puzzle, one that could be solved with diligence and logic. And once an expert, it could be solved quickly and easily. It was all a matter of knowing the algorithms—knowing the way things worked together.

And it clicked.

“They’re the Shadow Triad,” N stated. “We go where the shadows are.”

\- - - - -

The bucket in Cheren’s hell— _oh, cell_ , he thought—was not used for its intended purposes. Instead, he hovered over it, puking up everything he had left in him. He had been throwing up all night, and sweat dripped off his forehead like raindrops. His arms shook as he held himself up, and he coughed once before vomiting again.

By the time morning broke, he was dry heaving, nothing left in him of which to rid himself. He was dehydrated, but he didn’t have any water and didn’t want to move.

The door to the dungeon, or whatever this room was, swung open. The light blinded Cheren, and when a flashlight turned on him, he squinted and wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. His cell door opened with a grinding sound that hurt his ears, but his stomach still felt so upset that the painful noise was a nice distraction.

“Come. We’re moving you.”

Cheren was too weak to stand on his own, much to his embarrassment. He couldn’t force himself to his feet; his legs shook too hard, and his head lolled in his exhaustion. As much as he wanted to strangle this guy for everything he had done, there was no way he could. So, when the Shadow walked over to him and swung him over his shoulder like a rag, there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop the fiend.

At some point, he fell asleep or maybe passed out. He awoke in a new prison, though it wasn’t quite so. Instead, he discovered as he blinked the haze out of his eyes upon waking, he was in some sort of tunnel. At the end, where he was, a circular opening was carved out, barred with gates not dissimilar to the ones in the previous area. However, he could see through this one due to the abundance of light pouring in from somewhere above them. It was day, or at least he thought so.

More importantly, the stench was gone, as was his perpetual nausea—not that he thought he could throw up anymore if it wasn’t.

But he was too weak to stand, so he crawled along the damp floor towards the other, darker end of the tunnel. Yet his journey was cut short before he got too far; one of the Shadow Triad was leaning against the rounded wall, a Bisharp sharpening its blades across from him. This place wasn’t confined like the other room…

It was a sewer. And not just any sewer, Cheren guessed.

“You’re awake. Eat this.”

The Shadow threw a piece of bread at Cheren, who still knelt on his hands and legs, and it rolled to a stop against his skin. Nothing was appetizing to him now, no matter how much he had gotten rid of earlier. He could admit that he was thirsty—really thirsty, and his throat burned from the acid—but he wouldn’t eat that bread.

“We’re in the Castelia sewers?” Cheren croaked, his voice barely audible. The Shadow held a hand to his ear, and Cheren tried again. “The Castelia sewers!”

The Shadow clapped, and the noise echoed through the tunnels and back, amplified to twice the volume it should’ve been. “Ding, ding, ding. Though it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. Eat the bread.”

Cheren glanced down at the bread still resting against his hands, and he sat down and picked the bread up. No matter what, he couldn’t eat this, but the Shadow was watching him intently. Strangely enough, he didn’t think there was anything the least bit suspicious about the bread—it was just… bread.

He bit into the loaf, and all of the nausea came rushing back to him. The Shadow chuckled as Cheren spat the chunk out. Coughing, he threw the bread back at the Shadow. The Bisharp looked up suddenly, its arms raised, but the Shadow waved it back. Even with the fabric covering the man’s face, Cheren could see that he was amused.

“You moved me,” Cheren noted, and the Shadow just stared at him. “What… what about… her? She was in there, too—she was—” He stopped himself before he went too far.

The Shadow didn’t say anything, and after some time passed, Cheren no longer expected a response. But, finally, the Shadow answered, “Hilda won’t be moved. Not until our lord N arrives.” And then he threw the bread back at Cheren’s hands, just like he would at a bird in a cage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care how hungry I was, if someone gave me bread that had been rolling around on the floor in a sewer, I wouldn't even take a bite of it. Cheren is the epitome of bravery... or stupidity. The two often go hand-in-hand.


	7. Labyrinth

“That girl is here, my lord.”

N glanced over at the two grunts who approached him gasping for air, as if they had just done a marathon rather than a hundred yard dash. One of the grunts jabbed a thumb over his shoulder towards the entrance of the park and nodded, but he was too out of breath to say anything. It was all he could do to stay standing.

With a sigh, N looked at the Ferris wheel towering in the corner of the park. Now was as good a time as any, he supposed…

“Keep moving. I’ll take care of her,” N ordered, and the two men bowed to him before running off into the depths of the Nimbasa amusement park. He watched them disappear into a crowd of people, and once they vanished, he shoved his hands in his pockets and headed towards the park entrance.

The grunts were right, at least. N had already grown accustom to seeing that mop of brown hair and would recognize it anywhere.

He turned a little, pretending to be engaged in something other than her as she approached. When she got close enough, he let his gaze follow her for a moment. She wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings as much as what was right in front of her and didn’t notice him at all, which bothered him a little for some reason unbeknownst to him. So when he stepped right in front of her, she jumped, and he smiled.

“N! Sorry, I’m a little busy right now.” Hilda put a hand on his shoulder and started to walk past him, but N sidestepped her.

“You’re looking for Team Plasma, right?” N asked, and Hilda’s expression, which was distant and focused somewhere behind him prior to this, hardened into something surprisingly serious. N couldn’t help but be a little amused by this. He really _was_ the enemy. “They ran into the amusement park. Come with me.”

N never checked over his shoulder to see if Hilda was following him; he could tell without needing to confirm it. Even as they made their ways through the crowds towards that towering Ferris wheel, N knew she was right behind him the whole while. It wasn’t until they were standing right below the wheel that he stopped, and Hilda nearly knocked him over.

He glanced around the area before turning to face Hilda. “They’re not here,” he commented, and it wasn’t quite a lie since he didn’t see the grunts in the immediate area. “Let’s ride the Ferris wheel and see if we can spot them.” He gestured to the Rondez-View sign, and Hilda’s eyes followed the movement. “I love Ferris wheels. The circular motion… the mechanics… they’re like collections of elegant formulas.”

Hilda’s expression turned skeptical, but she still managed a smile for him. “Since there’s no line,” she agreed, stepping into the queue first.

N had heard that the wheel was built as a ride solely for couples, which had bothered him from the moment the rumor spread. He wasn’t naïve, and he knew what might occur on this wheel—but those couples wouldn’t, and frankly couldn’t, appreciate the technicalities making the wheel move and the equations powering it and…

Well, it was clear from the way that Hilda pressed her face immediately against the glass, or at least close enough to it that her breath fogged the window, that she didn’t particularly appreciate those technicalities either. The only thing she cared about was finding those Team Plasma grunts. He didn’t understand it.

The two were moving now, rising higher and higher in a consistent arc. It was now or never, while he had her alone.

“First,” N began, and Hilda drew her attention away from the view and to him, “I must tell you… I am the king of Team Plasma.”

Her reaction was immediate. She pushed herself further away from him, which wasn’t very far in this enclosed space, but it _was_ hostile enough to show her diminishing opinion of him. He figured he might lose some of her trust from this admission, but he hadn’t had much of it to begin with. And she needed to know.

“Ghetsis asked me to work with him to save Pokémon. I wonder how many Pokémon exist in this world…” He glanced out the window of their gondola now. In the sky alone, he could see several bird Pokémon flying in the distance. There were dozens, more on the ground, some on Hilda’s belt even…

“I want to get off,” she said, and that was all. Her eyes didn’t show fear, as he suspected they might, but there was certainly distrust.

It was silent for the remaining two revolutions, and Hilda couldn’t get off any faster if she tried. But N followed closely behind, and it wasn’t long before the two Plasma grunts who had run into the park were right in front of them. Hilda’s right hand curled into a fist, the left reaching immediately to her Poké Balls.

“My lord N!”

“You’re safe, sire!”

N held a hand out to stop them from interfering, knowing that they had certainly already lost to Hilda once and would only lose again. At least he, being the Plasma King, would be able to buy them some time to escape, which they hadn’t done the first time. He didn’t exactly need their help with that.

“There’s no problem,” N assured the grunts, though Hilda’s twisted face said otherwise. “You’re part of the people we brought in to help us save the Pokémon. So, you’re under my protection, as well. Go, quickly, and let my battle cover your retreat.” He glanced back at the grunts, who nodded, and then turned back to Hilda. “Now then, Hilda, do you follow my logic?”

“Yeah. I got it,” she hissed, “ _Lord_ N.”

The addendum bothered N, but he forced a smile nonetheless. “If true, your words please me,” he managed, and he really did want to praise her for everything so far. Now wasn’t exactly a good time, but he meant it. “Ah. Then… the future I envision… Perhaps I can’t beat you here and now, but I’ll battle you to buy time for these members of Team Plasma to get away!”

He was always surprised at how eager Hilda’s Pokémon were to serve her—and weren’t they just slaves to her will? No, that wasn’t what they said. They respected her and _wanted_ to be by her side, and it was their desire to protect her from N that drove them now. Even his friends didn’t completely understand.

When the Sandile from which he had enlisted help fell to her Palpitoad, the water-type bounced back towards Hilda. N had never seen anything quite like it—only with Hilda and only because of her.

“Your Pokémon look happy,” N commented, and Hilda smiled. It was the first time her expression brightened since he told her who he was. “But even if I lose, is it different from the future I saw?”

The future—the one based on probability and the formulas he loved so much—was bleak. He didn’t need any special powers to make that prediction. If things continued to move in the same direction forever, Pokémon and people would destroy everything together. But it didn’t have to be that way. N could change it.

At the battle’s conclusion, N smiled at Hilda; the grunts had managed to get away, after all. “The result was the same…” he noted with a sigh, and Hilda raised her eyebrows at him. “But you… who are you?”

He didn’t get it—why her? Why this girl?

Hilda’s eyebrows relaxed, her lips pursed together as she shook her head. “N,” she said quietly, “I’m going to stop you. I can.”

“You’re quite strong,” N agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But I have a future that I must change. And, for that future…” He stepped closer to Hilda, who stood her ground with her same saddened expression. “I’ll defeat the Champion and become unbeatable, unlike any other. I’ll make all Trainers free their Pokémon! Just try and stop me!”

Was he encouraging her? Why?

“If you want to be together with Pokémon, your only hope is to collect the badges from each area and head for the Pokémon League. Try and stop me there, if you dare.” He backed away from Hilda, his steps slow. He didn’t really know why he could talk to her so easily. “If your conviction is not strong enough, you will never be able to defeat me.”

And the next time they met was at the Chargestone cave, where she had run into the Shadow Triad… He tried to replay _that_ meeting over in his head to think if he missed anything, but all he could remember was her face on the Ferris wheel.

\- - - - -

“Go ahead.”

Rosa shot him a skeptical look, but N just gestured to the entrance. She sighed, blinking away her bemused attitude and going ahead of him. By the time he joined her down in the damp tunnel, Rosa had already sent out her Ampharos to light up the enclosed space. The lights from the streets above them didn’t quite reach down here.

“You think they’d hang out somewhere as sketchy as the Castelia sewers?” Rosa wondered, avoiding a substantial puddle in front of them as the two walked down the tunnel. “I mean, sure, I fought Team Plasma here once, but that was Colress’s doing. I don’t think the Shadow Triad had anything to do with that.”

“Well…”

“What made you think of this place, anyway? There are a lot of places that have shadows. I mean, Black City would’ve—”

“This is an inconspicuous place, and there are dozens upon dozens of tunnels leading to different parts of the city. It gives them easy access to a wide variety of places without being seen, and unlike Black City, it is completely cast in shadows,” N explained, and Rosa pondered this for a moment. “I’ve known them almost my whole life. It’s all part of the illusion. Even at my castle, they usually stayed in the lower corridors where no one ever went.”

Rosa had to admit, even though they were treading through the sewers under a huge city that, frankly, wasn’t that clean, it kind of did give the impression of a castle—in a very abstract kind of way. The city towered above them, after all, like the tall walls of N’s castle or the towers of a fortress. The skyline didn’t differ so much from a castle, and these sewers were… well, they were a bit like a dungeon.

A dungeon where the Shadow Triad might keep people? Well, it was possible. N _did_ know them better than Rosa did.

“They were clean.”

Rosa glanced back over her shoulder at N, who was holding that cube again—she had caught him holding it quite a bit in the past couple of hours. “Huh?”

He twisted one of the sides of the cube and let it fall back to his side, the chain jingling quietly. “They were clean with their work. They didn’t leave any clues behind—just the trainer ID that Hilda must have dropped. They had to have made a mess somewhere, and what better place than in the sewers where no one would notice?”

“I’m sure Hilda is okay,” Rosa assured him quickly, knowing well what sort of thoughts were passing through his mind now. “Cheren, too.”

N didn’t respond. He brushed past her, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the tunnel.

Rosa sighed, rubbing a hand against her Ampharos as she, too, started forward. Sometimes all she could do was hope, and she didn’t have that much left to give.

\- - - - -

Cheren wasn’t cold, but he was shaking and couldn’t get himself to stop. He hadn’t eaten anything since arriving here, that one bite of contaminated bread aside. The Shadows traded shifts occasionally, but Cheren couldn’t see through the darkness of the tunnel he was in where they would go when their shift ended. So, he mostly faced the open end of the tunnel where the bars were; at least that way he could see if anyone was coming.

Hours passed, and the sound of the Bisharp grinding its blades together to sharpen them became deafening. But it was better to be here than _there_ , in that other room…

He couldn’t think of it. The noise was a proper distraction if anything. But he pulled himself closer to the bars at the end of the tunnel, grabbing onto them to pull himself up. He was uncomfortably weak, and the shaking didn’t help. It took all of his strength to just lean against those bars on his knees, and after a minute he sunk back down and sat.

And then he heard something.

His vision had begun to go a little hazy hours ago, but he blinked away the fog and squinted into the opening. There was a filter of light coming in from the street above, but it wasn’t as bright as daylight. And yet, there was light pouring in from somewhere else, one of the adjoining tunnels perpendicular to Cheren’s.

The voices silenced as the light got closer, and he could make out the forms of two people and an Ampharos stepping out of the tunnel. One of them… had a ponytail, or so Cheren thought, but the second definitely had weird bun-pigtails.

“Rosa. N…” Cheren pulled himself back up and reached a hand through the bars towards them. Should he call out to them? Should he—no, that would give them away to the Shadow Triad. But how else would they find him?

“Our lord N is here.”

Cheren turned back around, and the number of Shadows had doubled. The one who had taken up guard, sitting comfortably against the wall, looked up at a second one. The sitting Shadow chuckled, and the Bisharp across from him stood up.

“Shit,” Cheren muttered, looking back out the end of the tunnel. Rosa and N were heading towards another tunnel. Well, if the Shadow Triad already knew they were here, there was no use trying to protect them. “Rosa! N!”

Something struck the back of his head, and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheren is really getting screwed-over in this fic. Poor kid.


	8. Conjecture

Rosa’s sudden intake of breath startled her Ampharos, and the light around them flickered faintly. The three of them, the two humans and the Pokémon, stopped where they were at the edge of the new tunnel. It couldn’t have been just a voice in her head. Rosa knew that she had just heard Cheren shout their names.

“You heard that, right?” Rosa asked N, whose eyes flashed against the light as he glanced around. “You were right—he’s here.” The excitement that lit her face now was undeniable, but even she wished deep down that she wasn’t so eager. There was still the chance that they could fail. “Cheren! Cheren, where are you?”

N shook his head, putting a finger to his lips. “We’re on their turf now,” he whispered. “It’s best that we proceed quietly. The Shadow Triad will be looking for us.”

“Too true, Lord N.”

Rosa and N had just turned back around to continue into the next tunnel when the Shadow appeared before them. He bowed to N, but his gaze was clearly pointed towards Rosa. As he rose again, Rosa made a little growl before backing up, only to bump into a second Shadow behind them. They were surrounded.

But they weren’t outnumbered.

“Our apologies. We wanted to give you a more formal invitation and reception here, but there was a change of plans.” The second Shadow bowed this time.

N knew that he had no choice but to go along with the Shadows if he wanted Cheren to make it out of here with them. Reshiram was too large to fit in the tunnels, so the dragon had to wait outside. Without it, N was relatively defenseless; he had a small team with him, but he could admit that Rosa ran the battle last time. N didn’t doubt that the Shadow Triad was actually stronger than he was.

“Where’s Cheren?” Rosa demanded. Her hand reached back towards her Ampharos, and she stroked its fur with the tips of her fingers. It was a silent warning, N knew, and he could hear the Ampharos’s reply: it was ready for anything.

“We’ll escort you to him,” the first Shadow assured her, and her cold expression softened. “We only need our lord N to come with us, and you, Champion Rosa, are free to take him and leave.”

Every eye turned on the ex-King, and he grabbed the void cube out of habit. He examined it thoughtfully, and the room and the people around him vanished. In a world of just algorithms and formulas and Pokémon, everything was perfect. There was no conflict, no uncertainty. Everything was black and white, but that was how he thought it ought to be.

It was Hilda who taught him, like everything else she taught him before this, that the gray—the in between, the uncertainty, the conflict—was what made the world interesting. The world could never _be_ just black and white.

Even in mathematics, there was more than one way to do things. Just because there was one answer didn’t mean everything had to be clear cut. Different people interpreted the formulas and the rules in different ways, which led to new theories and new routes to solutions. N had misunderstood that. He could continue to love his formulas, but he would have to love the conjectures, too.

“Ampharos,” Rosa began, but N dropped the void cube and grabbed her arm.

“I’ll go.” N smiled reassuringly—or in an attempt to be reassuring, but it was a bit hard to know if it came off that way or not—at Rosa. He could feel her muscles stiffen, and he let go of her arm. It was quiet, and he waited one more moment for the protest that never actually came—one that he expected. So, with a sigh, he looked at the Shadow in front of them. “I’ll go with you.”

He knew that Cheren was Rosa’s priority; Hilda was N’s. They were better off this way.

“Take Champion Rosa to the boy. I will bring Lord N to the gardens.”

The second Shadow nodded, pulling on Rosa’s arm. She whistled at her Ampharos, who followed close at her heels, and N caught one last glimpse of her as she faded away into another tunnel.

N was left with just one Shadow, who bowed yet again at N now that he was alone in the king’s presence. “I beg for your forgiveness, my lord,” the Shadow pleaded, still with his head turned down in a bow. “I had to separate you from your new friends. I do think, however, that it was ultimately in your best interest.”

“Don’t worry about it.” N waved him off, and the Shadow stood tall again. “There’s something more important: tell me about Hilda.”

In the darkness of the tunnel without Ampharos, and without the light from the streets above or the light fixtures that still hung in some old rooms in the sewers, N couldn’t see the Shadow’s face at all. The man was simple a creature of darkness—a true shadow, hiding where the light couldn’t quite reach.

But even in this darkness, N could imagine the smirk beneath the fabric mask.

“Allow me to bring you to the garden first. You’ll feel more comfortable there, I believe.”

N was hesitant about following the Shadow Triad into a confined space, but he walked behind the Shadow, anyway. What was he to do? Rosa would find Cheren, the two of them would escape this place, and then what? Were they going to come back for him? Were they going to renew their search for Hilda? Surely Cheren was still worried about his old friend.

When they walked up the stairs into the garden, which sat undisturbed between some of the Castelia skyscrapers, N covered his eyes from the blinding light of the sun directly above them. In just a few minutes, it would disappear behind the buildings, but for now, it lit the small field like a flame and made every shadow vibrantly dark.

People could look down from their office windows and see into this small enclosure. For the time being, N was safe here. Even the Shadow Triad wasn’t brave enough to risk something in front of obvious witnesses—unless they knew no one could see.

The last Shadow, the third of the group, was already situated beneath the tree in the center of the grass. But it wasn’t the man that garnered N’s attention; some Pokémon had poked their heads out of the tall grass and walked towards N.

This had to be what the Shadow meant about being more comfortable.

N knelt down on the ground and held his hand out to an Eevee, and the small Pokémon rubbed its head under his hand. A Pidove landed by his side, and a Buneary hopped over and settled in his lap. N had that effect on Pokémon. Maybe they could tell that he had been raised by some as a boy, or maybe he was just trustworthy.

After playing with the Pokémon for several minutes, N finally recalled where he was. He hadn’t even noticed the Shadow return from bringing Rosa to Cheren—neither of the two in tow—and now all three members of the Shadow Triad rested under the tree.

“When will you tell me about Hilda?”

The Shadows, realizing they were being addressed by their former king, sat up straighter. “When the time is right,” they responded, though N didn’t really consider it a proper answer. “First, you need to do something for us.”

At this point, N realized that the fur on Eevee’s back stood up straight, and the words it whispered were not sweet.

They cannot be trusted.

N didn’t like liars, and he wasn’t one to hand out trust to people easily.

But still, he believed he could manage their game as long as he didn’t believe the lies handed out to him. “You have a deal.”

\- - - - -

When the Shadow was out of sight, vanished back into the tunnel through which the two of them just walked, Rosa dropped to her knees beside Cheren’s unconscious body. She shook him, and when there was no response, fell back onto her bottom. Her Ampharos butted her with its head as she picked at her lip.

“I’m thinking,” she told it. Cheren was still breathing, so he was still alive, at least. But he didn’t look very good. All the color had drained from his face, leaving his skin pale and clammy. It was hard to believe that this was the result of a day.

The only thing Rosa knew was that she had to get him out of here, but not only did she have to get him out of here, she also needed to help N. If the Shadow Triad truly had information on Hilda—and considering what they had done to Cheren, it wasn’t farfetched for them to have done something to her—then N was bound to make a deal with them.

She’d come back for him… she had to take care of Cheren first.

“Arcanine,” she called, letting the large beast out of its Ball. “I need you to carry him.”

Rosa had just started to lift Cheren when his fingers twitched, and she grabbed his hand. His eyes fluttered, and his jaw slacked as he muttered, “Hil… da…” And then panic struck, and his eyes opened wide; he thrashed in Rosa’s arms, screaming something unintelligible as he tried to break free.

“It’s me! It’s Rosa!” she yelled over his screams, squeezing his hand harder as he tried to pull away. “Cheren, it’s me!”

He blinked and stopped moving as everything settled. “Rosa?”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she nodded. Cheren relaxed a little, going almost limp in Rosa’s arm, only the sound of his heavy breathing between them now. She ran a hand over his forehead and brushed hair out of his eyes—what was that? What just happened?

“Cheren…”

“I’m okay. I’m fine,” he assured her, like the events of just a minute ago had never happened at all. But when he attempted to stand on his own, using Rosa’s shoulder to push himself up, he fell back to his knees. And something felt like it was sticking out on the back of his head, a bump or a lesion, and whatever it was, it hurt.

“Hold on, get on Arcanine.”

Cheren grabbed onto Rosa and let her hoist him up and over her Arcanine. He let his face fall against its fur, and he wrapped his arms around its neck. “So warm,” he murmured into the dog’s fur, and Rosa smiled. It was all she could do right now.

With Ampharos leading the way and Arcanine taking the rear, they all set off for the exit. The Shadow had brought them to some obscure part of the sewers, seemingly beyond the areas where workers and trainers might venture. If Hilda was here, it would have to be in a place like that—in the darkness, away from everyone and everything else.

“Where’s N?” Cheren asked after minutes of silence passed. The only noise had been their footsteps and the constant dripping of water from a nearby pipe; the water had been drained from the sewers as it was getting closer to winter, but that didn’t mean the sewers were completely dry. Who knew what they were stepping in right now?

Rosa’s focus on the dripping was broken only when Cheren asked the question a second time. “Oh. He, um… he’s with the Shadow Triad. They said that if he went with them, I could be brought to you, so—he went.”

“You let him?” Cheren demanded, sounding more alive than he had in the past few minutes.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Rosa asked desperately. “He’s an adult, Cheren. He can handle himself. Would you rather me have not gotten to you? Would you rather be spending another day or two or forever with these guys?”

“You haven’t known him as long as I have.” His voice tired again, and he rubbed his cheek against Arcanine’s warm fur. “I may not known him well, but he’s not like us. He might be older than us, but… he’s like a kid.” Cheren sighed. “He probably thought that he could do this alone. Trust me, Rosa, he can’t. He can’t do this alone.”

“Why? Just because they got you?”

Cheren squeezed his eyes shut, and Arcanine yelped when he pulled its fur. “N is soft. He’ll do anything for Pokémon. Hilda was the same way, but N—he’s an extremist. He’ll go beyond that. If it means keeping Pokémon safe, even if it’s just one, I’d bet that he would go along with anything they said.”

Rosa’s eyes widened, and she stopped in her tracks. “They’ll use Pokémon as leverage…”

It wasn’t clear what the Shadow Triad’s intentions were, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that, whatever those intentions were, they weren’t pure. Like the darkness, the Shadows were tainted. But shadows grew darker and bigger with light, and if N was the light…

Rosa’s hands shook, not unlike Cheren’s, though it was rage that fueled her now. Hadn’t she done her good deed? Hadn’t she freed herself from this a second time? She was no hero—not one that returned over and over to save the day. She was just a girl who did the right thing. It didn’t make her a protector of justice.

And to think this was all for a girl she didn’t even know.

“We have to go back for him. I’ll be okay. Besides, they have my Pokémon. We have to find them,” Cheren insisted.

It was no use. How was Rosa supposed to respond to this?

“They’ll know we didn’t leave.”

“I don’t care.”

Rosa snarled, unable to fight any longer, and pointed towards a tunnel not too far down on the left. “Fine. That’s the tunnel N and I went into when they ambushed us. Assuming that N and the other Shadow continued down that path, since I went in the other direction to get to you, we should be able to find them relatively quickly if we move fast.”

Cheren nodded, brushing Arcanine’s fur back and forth. “And there’s something else. Something I need to tell you now.”

“What?”

“It’s about Hilda,” Cheren started. “I know where she is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, and Cheren's torment has subsided for a chapter. Hopefully it lasts. ;)


	9. Homebound

The air breathed like whispers as Hilda approached her home region, a place that some might say she forgot almost a year ago when she left. In reality, not a day passed that she did not think of the life she left behind in Unova. She yearned for the flavorful food only her mom could make… for the rich and dynamic culture that technology provided there… for the friends still waiting for her to come home.

She made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t return to Unova until she found one of those friends, only this one wasn’t waiting for her at home. Maybe she normally shouldn’t have gone to such extreme lengths, but her heart ached for him—ached to see his smile again and to feel the cold of his skin, though his touch was rare. Didn’t he feel the same? How could he have left without her?

Maybe it was that thought in particular that eased Hilda’s mind as she returned home without having found him. She was homesick, painfully so, and couldn’t find enough reasons to stay away any longer—if he left without her in the first place, how bad could it be that she wanted to leave without him now?

So, she did, though not without a heavy heart. Even after persuading herself that maybe N didn’t care, she still didn’t want to leave him behind.

Convincing herself that the tears in her eyes resulted from the wind blowing like needles against her face, she pressed on. Just on the horizon, the mountainous edge of Unova stood tall. Once she crossed those mountains, she would stop in Aspertia and rest—her Pokémon had been flying too long, anyway, and what was one day more?

No one knew she was on her way home, anyway. On the one hand, she wanted it to be a surprise to the people who cared and wanted her back; on the other, she wanted to put off the inevitable: all of those people who cared would know she failed.

Well, who knew what might really happen? Maybe N returned home prematurely, too—she didn’t know _why_ exactly he left in the first place, though she had her suspicions.

Hilda hugged her arms around her Pokémon’s neck, squeezing her eyes shut as they passed over the mountains. She loved every day, but every day didn’t always love back. All she wanted now was to go home and return to the life she knew: no more searching, no more tears, no more homesickness. She’d find Cheren and Bianca and tell them how much she missed them.

The descent into Aspertia came quickly, and when her feet touched the ground, she let out a soft moan of relief. “Thank you,” she breathed, returning her Pokémon to its Poké Ball, something she had been overly conscious of since the incident with Team Plasma.

Pokémon Centers in the other regions weren’t as advanced as the Centers here, and Hilda let her fingers brush the walls as she walked inside. Aspertia wasn’t highly populated, so neither was the Center. But, as usual, the nurse sat at the front desk, visitors or not, and the woman glanced up eagerly as Hilda approached.

“Hello! Would you like to heal your Pokémon?” she asked. Hilda had gotten used to not being recognized, since she was a nobody in the other regions, but she kind of expected something here. Oh, but she had abdicated before she left, hadn’t she? There was certainly a new Champion now, though she didn’t know who.

“Please.” Hilda passed all six of the Balls on her belt to the nurse, figuring it had been awhile since any of them had a break. The nurse promised that it would only be a few minutes, and Hilda smiled politely as she turned to go take a seat.

The smile didn’t last long. She squinted at an image in the window, one vaguely familiar to her even though she hadn’t seen it in over a year. “What in the world?” she muttered, walking closer to the window to get a better look at the person standing on the other side. He was facing the other way, but as if he sensed her presence, he turned just as her fingers touched the glass.

She retracted her hand with a small gasp, her heart beating hard as the man nodded his head to the side, gesturing for her to come outside.

How did he know she’d be here?

Glancing back at the nurse once, Hilda walked outside—she was an idiot for going out there without her Pokémon, she knew, but Aspertia was busy enough that someone would notice if he attacked her. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to attack someone in the daylight hours, though waning, especially when Team Plasma had already been stopped.

Besides, the nurse would be waiting for her.

The whole of the Shadow Triad appeared the second the door shut behind her. “Hello, Champion Hilda,” they greeted in an eerily monotonous and simultaneous voice. It made a shiver crawl up Hilda’s spine, but she hoped they didn’t notice.

“How’d you know I was here?” she demanded, her voice just as strong as she remembered. Maybe it was second nature to be the hero she apparently was. “I just came back.”

“We’ve been watching. We call it a defensive strategy,” one of the Shadows explained, as if that really offered any explanation at all. They had been waiting for her every day? How did they know that she’d come from the southwest? Unless… they had someone follow her in the first place? But what were the odds?

Hilda took a step back towards the door, but it wasn’t the move the Shadow Triad desired. They surrounded her, but she couldn’t even muster a scream before they pulled her away with a hand over her mouth.

Someone saw—someone had to have seen! She was standing right in front of the Pokémon Center just moments ago.

But when she opened her eyes again, the mountains stood close above her, and the expansive field in front of her leading up to them practically glowed in the setting sun. The Shadows let go of her and spread out, and Hilda hesitated a moment. There was no reason why they ought to give her freedom now, not once they kidnapped her. This wasn’t as simple as wanting to talk.

The Pawniards that stepped out from behind the Shadows did not look friendly, less so than they naturally appeared. Her head rushed for a moment—this all happened so fast; she just got back, she just dropped off her Pokémon. If only she had just waited, but who was to say that they wouldn’t have taken her while the nurse was in the back room tending to her Pokémon? The Shadow Triad had the power to do so, inhuman or otherwise.

No one knew Hilda had made it back to Unova; the only thing anyone—at least anyone in the other regions—knew was that she was on her way home. Yes, that was the only thing confirmed; she was in limbo. No wondered the Triad was waiting.

Her breath came out in puffs, and it was as one clouded her vision that she turned.

She didn’t run very far before a blade caught her arm, and she tripped and rolled along the grass. Her whole body burned, and she gritted her teeth in pain—the cut dug deep into her skin. But despite the pain, despite the blood, and despite the tears that brimmed in her eyes, Hilda forced herself to reach into her bag and finger through everything in it.

“Our apologies,” she heard one of the Shadows say from just above her. “We have a trip to make, and we can only carry you conscious so far.”

As she rose from the ground, she let her hand fall out of her bag, and with it dropped the only clue she could give: her trainer ID. Blood dripped off her fingertips like bathwater, but the pain didn’t stop her from smiling at the small success.

There was a rumor in Unova that once someone escaped from their homeland, they never returned, and as the Shadow began to carry her away, she couldn’t help but wonder if she never should have left at all.

\- - - - -

Rosa rubbed her Arcanine’s nose, Cheren’s black hair barely visible around the dog’s giant head. “Can you smell anything? The Shadows? N? Hilda?”

“You won’t be able to find them that way,” Cheren began in an exasperated voice. He hadn’t been able to explain where Hilda was since both times Cheren had been moved to or from the area, he had been unconscious. “I don’t think the Shadows can be tracked; their superhuman powers sort of… nullify tracking abilities. And if N is with them, it should mask his smell, too. Not to mention the stench of the sewers. As for Hilda…” He didn’t offer anything more, just let his voice trail off.

Rosa frowned, lowering her hand from the beast in front of her and rubbing the bridge of her nose instead. “Well… do we do what we set off to do and rescue Hilda, or do we save N first? I mean… if it’s as you say, N can’t be expected to take care of himself when there are the lives of Pokémon on the line. But… Hilda…”

“We need to go to Hilda now… before we find N. Please.”

She couldn’t tell if his voice shook now because of his exhaustion, as before, or because of something else, but… Rosa would do anything Cheren wanted. At this point, she owed him that. Even though N had saved Rosa’s life once before, the sad truth of it was that she could put him on the back burner for Cheren.

Cheren wouldn’t think her a good person if she admitted that, so she kept it to herself.

“Look out,” Rosa ordered, jumping up on her Arcanine behind Cheren. The young man moved forward on its back only barely, which didn’t leave much room for Rosa. She wrapped her arms around Cheren, grabbing onto some of the thicker tuffs of fur on Arcanine’s neck. “We’re running. Let’s go.”

Arcanine could still move with haste even with the weight of two humans on its back, and Ampharos, still providing their light, waddled awkwardly behind them. Eventually it gave up and followed on all fours, unable to keep up otherwise.

They maneuvered through the tunnels like a scavenger hunt through a maze, and the minutes ticked on with no results. Certainly Cheren had been kept in the sewers before, too, back in the makeshift cell near Hilda. But even though there had not been enough light there to discern a proper location, nothing looked right as they traveled.

But… he remembered a door…

Light had filtered in through below a door… and there was a sink, too—a bucket…

“I have an idea,” Cheren whispered, tugging gently on a tuff of Arcanine’s fur, as if to relay a message, and the beast turned at the nearest left.

In some sewers, there were maintenance and control rooms depending on the size of the structure. Some, depending on how deep into the sewers those rooms were, probably wouldn’t be used anymore—not when there were so many wild Pokémon wandering around deep in the sewer. And so long as the workers had access to a _few_ of the rooms, they wouldn’t need access to the deeper ones.

It would be easy enough for the Shadow Triad to take over one of the maintenance rooms and transform it into a makeshift cell.

They moved even further into the sewers, and the stench in the air became more potent—the stench that Cheren remembered almost perfectly, the stench that had made him want to throw up and had. They were headed in the right direction now.

“There.” Cheren sat up, stifling a groan of pain, and pointed to a door up some stairs.

He began to slide off Arcanine’s back before Rosa could even move, only to collapse beneath his own weight as his first foot hit the ground. Rosa gasped, jumping off next to him and pulling him back to his feet. Cheren practically pushed her off and dragged himself towards the stairs, holding onto the handrail for support.

“Cheren!” Rosa shouted, only to be ignored.

It took him awhile to make it up the stairs, and Rosa held her hands up cautiously behind him in fear that he might tumble backwards. But as he reached the top, he fell against the door, and it opened and released the stench that had been building up for years in that room. The horrible smell of the sewers was not as rancid as this, despite this one being less potent.

“What is _that_?” Rosa plugged her nose, lingering in the doorway as Cheren made his way inside the room. She sighed when he didn’t respond, gesturing for her Arcanine to wait outside and for Ampharos to follow them in.

She almost wished she hadn’t.

Cheren fell to his knees again, reaching through a set of bars and grabbing a dirty pink and white hat. His hands shook so violently that he dropped it several times, and eventually Rosa sunk to her knees beside him and took it. The hat hadn’t been worn in years, that was for sure, but there was still a single hair attached to the Velcro on the back.

But more important than the hat was what lay beyond it. Rosa’s bottom lip quivered, tears forming in her eyes for a person she never even met.

There wasn’t much left of Hilda but clothes, and these were clothes Cheren recognized well. It was a favorite outfit of Hilda’s—short-shorts, with the pockets hanging out the bottoms, and a white t-shirt with a black vest thrown on over it. It was fitting that she would have returned to Unova wearing the outfit she saved it in.

Beneath those clothes was not her slightly tanned skin, which had always been so smooth that Cheren found himself subconsciously touching it every now and again—he’d grab her hand as she went to move away just so he could brush his thumb over it or lean his arm against hers. She had always been so thin, but her skin held a certain thickness that was wildly attractive to him.

Hilda was there, all right—just not as much as she had been before. That beautiful skin rotted away long ago.

Rosa clasped a hand against her mouth, screaming out against it. Never in her life did she think she would ever see anything so horrible and so real. And when she screamed, even muffled by her hand, the sound echoed louder in the room, and it made everything seem that much worse. This was reality.

Cheren’s voice broke as he stated the obvious, but it was something that he had been unable to say before. And that reality—the one in which they now lived—felt all the more severe and cruel, and no one ever wanted that.

“H-Hilda,” Cheren choked out, “is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the hopeless romantic type. I'm all for writing happily ever afters and bringing otps together and all of that. This is the first of all of my fanfics where that might not be a reality (because reality can hurt).
> 
> Ah, well, there are still ten chapters left. Maybe Hilda won't get a happy ending, but that doesn't mean the rest of them can't.


	10. Ultimatum

Rosa tore her gaze away from the bones behind the iron-barred wall and looked at Cheren. Not many moments passed during life when a person could _feel_ his or her heart breaking, but the pain in Rosa’s chest couldn’t be anything but that. Everything about Cheren now—his completely exhausted eyes poured tears, his dry lips shook with a whimper, and his arms stayed wrapped around himself—made it obvious that he had been shattered.

He knew. He must have known—it was the only way to explain how he had deteriorated so quickly here. Cheren _knew_ that Hilda was here, dead, and still brought Rosa, anyway.

Meanwhile, N could be…

Rosa forced herself to look back at Hilda’s remains, letting out all of the breath that she had been holding in for the past couple of seconds. There was nothing they could do for her anymore. They couldn’t just take her out of here and restore her back to the person she was—she was gone forever, nothing more than a skeleton.

“We need to go,” Rosa croaked, pushing herself back to her feet and dropping Hilda’s hat. It fell to the floor, and she toed it back into the cell. “And we need to help N—we need to tell him!”

Cheren lit up, burning like a raging fire, and grabbed Rosa’s hand as she bent down to help him up. “No!” he shouted, the sound echoing in this dark room and practically bouncing off the grayed bones. “You can’t—we can’t—tell him. Promise me, Rosa. Promise me that you won’t tell N. Please, I’m begging you.”

At the end of his plead, he collapsed again under the weight of his words. His breath broke in harsh pumps of air, but Rosa couldn’t bring herself to make the promise that he so desperately desired. Instead, she lifted him with an arm under his and carried him out of the room and back onto Arcanine.

“Rosa. Please.”

“Come on,” Rosa muttered to her Pokémon, tears slipping down her cheeks. She hopped on Arcanine’s back behind Cheren again, and his wince away from her shattered her heart into even smaller pieces. When Arcanine broke into a run, she wasn’t even holding on, and it was as it bounded down the stairs that she flew off and hit the floor.

She groaned, rubbing some pebbles out of her skin. There was some blood—nothing bad—but her body ached now. So, she stood back up and leaned against her Arcanine and looked at Cheren, who would not do the same and glance back. The pain got worse and worse, but Rosa would press on until the end.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Cheren, and I know why you brought me here before going for N,” she began, and he turned his head to the other side. His eyelids fluttered as he struggled to keep them open, but at least he tried to look at her now. “It’s understandable that you didn’t want to carry this knowledge on your own. But I can’t promise not to tell N. He needs to know—he loves her, Cheren.”

“It’ll break him.”

Cheren’s words brought even more tears to Rosa’s eyes, and they slid steadily down her cheeks now, dripping off her chin and hitting Arcanine’s fur. He was right, after all. Telling N that Hilda—the girl who opened his eyes to the reality of their world, the girl he didn’t even know he loved, the girl who would never be able to tell him she loved him back—was dead… and that would absolutely destroy him.

“I know, Cheren. I know you just want to protect him, but you can’t hide something like this from him. He’ll keep searching until he finds her. I don’t want him to have to face that alone like you did. I can see what it did to you.” Rosa reached a hand out, the less bloodied of the two after her fall, and touched Cheren’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Cheren. I’m _so_ sorry.”

Everything that Cheren had left in him broke, and Rosa wrapped her arms around him as he sobbed into her shoulder. Arcanine howled in sympathy, masking the sound of Cheren’s gasping cries, and the Ampharos behind them chirped. But, no matter how loud her Pokémon got, they wouldn’t be able to hide the way Cheren’s body shook as he cried—wouldn’t hide the warmth and dampness of his breath as he hyperventilated against her.

“I’m sorry,” Rosa whispered again, but somehow she knew that nothing she said would ever make it all right.

\- - - - - 

It wasn’t that N was _following_ Hilda exactly, but after their conversation at the Chargestone Cave, he couldn’t help but be curious about her—more so than he already was.

She had gone into the Mistralton City gym to challenge the gym leader, so it was only natural that she’d come back out with the badge in only a few minutes. N knew that Hilda was a strong trainer, and he respected her as someone who cared for her Pokémon. But the fact that she _wanted_ to battle people—to pit Pokémon against Pokémon—all for a silly badge annoyed him.

Sure enough, when Hilda walked out of the gym, she was looking down at her badge case, and N could see a shiny new badge in the sixth slot. A Zebstrika followed behind her.

“They may say it is for understand one another better, but what trainers really use battles for is to compete…” N commented, and Hilda jumped, snapping the badge case shut and holding it against her chest. “And they hurt each others’ Pokémon! Am I the only one who finds this terribly painful?” When Hilda didn’t respond, clearly still getting over the shock of him sneaking up on her—not that N would ever word it like that—he continued. “Whatever… I’m going to talk to your Pokémon. I’ve been living with Pokémon since I was born, so it’s easier for me to talk with them than with people.”

“But—”

“Because Pokémon never tell lies,” N interrupted, and Hilda pursed her lips.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” she grumbled.

The funny thing was, N didn’t doubt that. Hilda’s Pokémon, on more than one occasion, had vouched for her. But hearing a Pokémon’s words had always been more reliable to him than listening to a human, and he wasn’t about to change his mind just because one girl told him the truth all the time.

So, N stepped towards the Zebstrika and held out his hand, and when the Pokémon leaned towards him, he patted its snout. “Hey, Zebstrika. Would you tell me what kind of trainer Hilda is?”

The Zebstrika’s explanation was quick, if not a little accusatory towards N—Hilda was given a gift, and for N to doubt her annoyed the poor beast.

“Okay, okay, got it.” N smiled, patted its snout one last time before backing down. “So, Hilda was born in Nuvema Town, lives with her mom, and was given the Pokédex to start off a journey to see the world.” Hilda’s eyes were wide when he looked towards her. There was nothing there that made her much different than anyone else. “Still, this Zebstrika trusts you for some reason. That’s good! If every person and Pokémon cared about one another like you two do, I could watch over the future of people and Pokémon without having to liberate Pokémon from people who just use them.”

“N, listen to me,” Hilda started carefully, putting a hand on his shoulder. His first reaction was to move away, but he let her touch him. Was that not a sign of trust? “I know there are bad people in the world—people who mistreat Pokémon—but they’re the exception, not the rule! If you just… come with me… I can show you.”

The offer made N’s cheeks burn, and he finally pulled away from the girl. Her eyebrows lowered slightly, and she frowned—N didn’t want to mistake whatever that expression showed with sadness, but… it resembled it almost perfectly… or maybe it was disappointment?

“Okay.” Hilda’s hand tightened around her badge case, and when she blinked, any hint of sadness or disappointment disappeared. “Then just… tell me what you plan on doing. Make this a fair fight for me.”

He shouldn’t. Telling her wouldn’t make this a fair fight—it would make her unbeatable.

But he had to tell her. He wouldn’t lie to her either.

“Ghetsis is using Team Plasma to search for some special stones—the Light Stone and the Dark Stone… these stones hold the essence of two legendary Pokémon,” he explained. “It is said that when they lost their physical form, they fell into a slumber and were transformed. Now, they wait for the hero’s arrival…” If he was truly the foretold hero, telling her this wouldn’t make a difference. “I shall resurrect a legendary dragon-type Pokémon from one of these stones and become its friend. That will show the world that I am the new hero. Everyone will follow what I say!”

“You could cause a war, N!” Hilda countered.

He shook his head—that wasn’t what he wanted at all. “My vision is to change the world without using force. Trying to change the world by force will just make others resist. If people resist, the ones that will be hurt are the innocent Pokémon used by foolish trainers. You understand. Pokémon are not just tools for people to use!”

The sad look on Hilda’s face was back, and this time when she moved towards him, she wrapped her arms around him. He could feel her whole body as she pressed him against her—from her bony collarbones to her firm breasts to her hips—but it didn’t make him uncomfortable.

Instead, all he felt was guilt.

“As a result…” he told her as she held him, “Pokémon and trainers who care about one another, like you and your Pokémon, will be separated.” She let go of him, but their proximity didn’t really decrease. “And that does break my heart a little.”

Just as she reached a hand up to his cheek, N pulled away, leaving her before he felt any worse about the things he was going to do to such a lovely girl. 

\- - - - -

The sun finally disappeared behind the towering skyscrapers that surrounded the small garden, leaving the space in relative darkness. The Shadow Triad, in their entirely black clothing, could barely be seen beneath the lone tree, save for their long white hair and pale arms. In the darkness, their domain, it was all the more important to watch them closely.

Especially once they moved.

“The game begins,” a Shadow breathed, and his eyes, barely visible beneath his hair, flickered towards the stairs at the edge of the garden. He released a Bisharp, and it sprinted out of the garden and into the darkness of the sewers. A second Bisharp followed, and then a third, and all N could do was watch as they faded away.

“What are you doing?” N demanded.

One of the other Shadows stepped forward, picking the Eevee up from N’s lap by its scruff. The little Pokémon struggled, trying to reach to bite the Shadow but to no avail. The Buneary by N hopped back into the tall grass, where it might be able to hide, but even it had to realize that wouldn’t be for long. The Pidove took to the sky and landed on top of the tree where it cawed.

The Shadow held the Eevee out in front of him as though it stunk, and N jumped to his feet. “What are you _doing_?” N asked again, holding his hands out for the Pokémon.

“Lord N, you have a choice.” The Shadow handed the Eevee off towards one of the other Shadows, who cradled the tiny creature despite its clawing and biting to be set free. “You can turn yourself over to Lord Ghetsis willingly, or you can fight. The choice is yours. But be aware of the outcome either way, as it’s the same.”

“So, Ghetsis _is_ the cause of all of this…” N didn’t want to admit it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be wrong, but he was so sure that his father, or whatever he was, had nothing to do with Hilda’s disappearance. “Did he take Hilda?”

“Everything we do, we do for Lord Ghetsis,” the Shadow holding the Eevee explained. “Now, you made us a deal, so give us your answer.”

Ghetsis… N didn’t doubt that the man he couldn’t quite call his father hated him for everything that happened. _Hate_ was not a word that N used lightly, and his feelings towards Ghetsis were not so negative. The man raised him, poorly or otherwise. But, at the same time, the power-obsessed man also abused N in more ways than one—N was not so naïve that he didn’t recognize that, either.

But he believed that Ghetsis could be redeemed and hoped that was the road his father was currently traveling down—his heart had been shattered upon defeat, after all.

Yet if Ghetsis hated N, if he _truly_ hated his son, then the result would be death. That was what he had planned for Rosa, after all, until N intervened. It was not beyond his capabilities, nor beyond his morals.

The Shadow said that either way the result would be the same—which meant that the fight the Shadow Triad desired would end in death, too. The Shadow Triad didn’t expect a battle; they expected a fight for his life, and it was obvious that they would deliver N to Ghetsis when the battle ended.

Ghetsis wanted his son dead?

No… not if his heart had truly broken upon defeat… it wasn’t possible.

The only thing N knew was that this whole thing had been a trick, but he already knew not to trust the Shadow Triad. Even as a member of Team Plasma, he had been better off putting his trust in the grunts than selling his soul off to three little devils. They didn’t plan on telling him where Hilda was any more than they planned on letting N out of here alive.

N heard what the loyal members of Team Plasma called him after the team fell apart into two: a traitor. Was this retribution?

“Ding, ding, time’s up.”

The Shadow nearest to the one with the Eevee sent out a second Bisharp, and the other let the Eevee fall from his arms. The Eevee didn’t have much time to move before the Bisharp pinned it against the ground, and N shouted for it to stop, knowing now what the Shadow Triad planned. But it was too late. The Bisharp removed its bladed arm from the Eevee’s limp body, crimson liquid sliding off the metallic tip.

Something animalistic came over N, and he roared as he ran towards the Shadow Triad, hoping to get his hands around the throats of at least one of them. As if predicting the move, though, the three circled N, and like the Bisharp had pinned the Eevee to the ground, they pushed N against the stone wall of one of the skyscrapers.

“That fate could have been avoided had you made up your mind. It’s your fault. You spend too much time considering the reasons and not enough time considering the consequences,” one of the Shadows whispered as N struggled to free his arms from the trio’s grasp. “Now, take your pick, or next time we’ll decide for you.”

It was not in N’s nature to fight. If they hadn’t done that… if they…

He couldn’t even think about it. But if the Shadow Triad just waited, N would have gone to Ghetsis willingly—which was why N suspected that they never wanted him to pick that choice in the first place. When they said he had a choice, they didn’t mean that the choice was really up to him at all. It was going to be made for him regardless.

“F-fight,” N breathed, and with his throat compressed under a Shadow’s arm, the words barely came out. “Now… g-give Hilda back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy ORAS Day, everyone! (I'm sorry to the wonderful folks in Europe who still have to wait a week, but that week will hopefully pass quickly for you.)
> 
> Back to this, Eevee is one of my favorite Pokemon, so I think I broke my own heart writing that scene (and then having to reread it to do the HTML for this site).


	11. Love and Loss

Rosa’s heart ached, though there wasn’t any immediate fix to this that she could see immediately, and she could only imagine how horrible and broken Cheren felt right now, which only made her heart ache more. Nothing she could say, and nothing she could do, would be able to mend him. Cheren, like N, loved Hilda. Why Rosa ever suspected he didn’t was beyond her; the two had been childhood friends, after all, although apparently his affections had gone beyond platonic awhile ago.

But Cheren was a good guy—no, not just a good guy… he was a good _person_. Everything he did, he did for other people. True enough, he never had any obligation to help Rosa and her best friend, Hugh, when Team Plasma sprung back up from defeat. He had a school and a gym to run, and since he was new to both at the time that Team Plasma returned, he really didn’t have to do anything for her.

Now, a year later, he was the same good person that Rosa fell in love with, albeit he didn’t return the feeling. That was okay with her. Surely she couldn’t complain now, knowing what she did, and she certainly didn’t consider this a victory in the slightest—who could? A girl was dead because of Team Plasma—or maybe just because of the Shadow Triad—and that terrified her.

It was the fact that Cheren wanted so desperately to protect N from the knowledge of Hilda’s death that made Rosa’s heart ache the most, though. N was Cheren’s rival in love, after all. Rosa wouldn’t ever know who Hilda would have picked, if she picked either of them, but the two boys must have known that they both harbored similar feelings towards their hero. And Cheren knew that N loved Hilda, perhaps even more than N knew himself, and he still wanted to help him… to protect him.

Rosa’s fist clenched around Arcanine’s fur as the small group headed on to find N. Cheren was so _good_ …

He slumped against Arcanine’s neck with his eyes pressed shut, and Rosa wondered whether he had fallen asleep. He needed it, that was for sure, but somehow he doubted that he’d be able to get any sleep for awhile—at least sleep without nightmares. Rosa had been having nightmares since the day Ghetsis almost killed her, though thankfully N and Reshiram had saved her from that fate.

They didn’t exactly talk about that day, though, so it was only in sleep that she relived it. After N saved her, Rosa stopped Team Plasma and Ghetsis, as Hilda had two years before, and N gave her the chance to be friends with Reshiram. But she couldn’t deny the bond that N and Reshiram had, so when she fought and captured the dragon, she returned it to N without hesitance. It was only right.

She tried to remember the happy memories, like that one, rather than the one of the icicles circling around her and closing in, but it was hard sometimes—harder now that everything seemed so much worse than before.

Even Rosa could admit that she put on a bit of a façade. She wasn’t nearly as brave as she pretended to be, and if not for Hugh’s stubbornness and obsession with getting his sister’s Purrloin back, maybe he would have been the one to stop Team Plasma.

It hurt… everything hurt so much…

Rosa leaned her head against Cheren’s back, and he moved slightly, though not wincing away from her as he had earlier. “Are you okay?” he asked, and tears sprung to her eyes again. As if he could really ask her that… obviously he was hurting more than she was. But that only went to show how much better he was than her, how much more she wasn’t worthy of him.

“Just tired,” she squeaked back, her voice not working as properly as it should have.

“Me, too. I think I’m going to take some time off when I get back home.”

His tone indicated that he was joking, which Rosa considered a step in the right direction, but she could only take him seriously. Time off would do them both some good. She would go back home to Aspertia and stay with her mom again… maybe Cheren would return to his home in Nuvema, too, and let someone else worry about him for a change without having to worry about anyone else. It sounded… nice.

But that was assuming they both made it out of here alive.

Arcanine’s ears perked up, and its body went stiff. “What?” Rosa muttered, picking her head off Cheren’s back and looking forward. Even with Ampharos giving off its light, Rosa still couldn’t see beyond a six-foot radius down into the pitch black tunnels. There was nothing but Rattatas and Zubats scurrying around down there, anyway, though Arcanine had stopped reacting to those long ago.

It was not scurrying that attracted its attention, but something that sounded like scrapping metal against either the floor or walls. Rosa furrowed her eyebrows and stared into the darkness, where she could make out the form of something coming towards them.

The Shadow Triad didn’t have any intention of letting them go, did they? They planned this all out.

“Shit,” Rosa whispered, sliding off Arcanine’s back and grabbing a Poké Ball. “Ampharos, come back.”

The light faded away with Ampharos, leaving Rosa, Cheren, and Arcanine in complete darkness. Rosa took a step back and patted Arcanine. At least it could see in the dark, but seeing as how the Bisharp were dark-types, they probably could, too… which left the humans at a disadvantage. But extinguishing the light stopped the Shadow Triad, however many of the Shadows were there, from finding them as quickly.

And if they split up…

“Sorry,” Rosa told Cheren, finding his hand and squeezing it. “At least one of us should make it out of these damn sewers, right? When you get outside, find Reshiram… it should be there somewhere waiting for N to come out, but if it sees _you_ , it’ll come—take it and go to the police. I’m going to go get N.”

“Rosa, what—”

She squeezed his hand again, and he stopped talking. “Sorry,” she repeated. “Arcanine, go. Get him out of here safely.”

In the darkness, it was hard to even make out a shape, but it made Rosa feel slightly better about her decision, though she couldn’t say why. She dropped Cheren’s hand, and with a burst of air as Arcanine turned around, the Pokémon and the man she loved left her behind.

There was no time to linger on her choice. She grabbed another Poké Ball—without Arcanine, none of her Pokémon had a type-advantage on the Bisharp that she knew were coming—and faced the approaching Pokémon. She had defeated the Shadow Triad many times… and last time, at the mountains, Umbreon had been enough…

“Come on,” she whispered.

Umbreon did not keep close to Rosa as she thought it might—and she was proud. There was no need to worry about her.

Something clanked not too far ahead of them. “Toxic, just like last time,” Rosa ordered in hushed tones, and the Umbreon went on ahead even further, disappearing completely in the darkness. She squinted, hoping to see something—but what she saw wasn’t what she expected.

The shapes of the Bisharps—there was more than one, but she couldn’t tell how many—moved around Umbreon, deliberately ignoring it. Even when Umbreon turned back and tried to get a hit in, the Bisharp just pressed forward towards Rosa. Did they… not want to battle? Why were they ignoring Umbreon?

Rosa’s eyes widened, and she turned. “Umbreon!” she called as she sprinted away from the approaching Bisharp. “Umbreon, come—”

She couldn’t see the stairs in front of her, and down she went along the fifteen steps. At the bottom, she groaned and rolled over, everything aching. I have to get up, she thought, pressing her eyes shut as the pain seared. I need to get up.

But instead, the smooth edge of a blade curved against her forearm, and she remained nearly paralyzed in pain on the ground. Her screams echoed through the tunnels, every rational thought fading from her mind.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die here, just like Hilda.

Just like Hilda, but this time, wouldn’t someone come looking?

\- - - - -

When consciousness returned to Hilda, the pain came quickly. She moaned, pushing herself up with her one good arm, and stared at the cut on the other. It was still damp with blood, though the bleeding had almost subsided. Unless she wrapped it, though, the cut could open back up—and considering how dizzy she was, she had probably already lost a substantial amount of blood.

The only light in the room in which she was currently held was a candle on the other side of some bars. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that her eyes got used to it quickly. But, with her dizziness, she was still a little disoriented, and when she reached for the hem of her white tank top, she missed the edge. It didn’t help that her hand was shaking.

“Stop that,” Hilda muttered to herself, but now that tears welled in her eyes, it was even harder to see.

She was such an idiot. This whole thing wouldn’t have even happened if she just _waited_ for her Pokémon to be healed. Why did she have to go outside? Why was she so curious about the Shadow Triad—when she knew that they were the enemies? Everything that had happened to her in the past however many hours… she deserved it.

And no one knew where she was… if only she had told someone that she was coming home.

How long had the Shadow Triad been watching? Had she been followed from place to place, tailed without her knowledge all along? Maybe if she had just gone home first, rather than stopping in Aspertia, everything would have been okay. But, no… she had always been a free-spirit. She would have gone somewhere alone again.

But if all they wanted was to get her alone, why hadn’t they captured her in one of the other regions?

No, they were counting on Hilda stopping here. In the other regions, someone always knew where she was. She kept in contact with Cheren and Bianca for a little while—she hadn’t told them she planned on coming home, or when, so the last time she spoke to them was a month or so ago. And she made some friends in the other regions, too, who she contacted from time to time. While in Sinnoh, Candice knew she was there, and when she left, she told her—while in Johto, same with some new friends—while in Kanto, too.

The Shadow Triad wouldn’t have done anything while other people were watching, too…

Now, it was too late to go back. They caught her by her own stupidity—logic had never been Hilda’s strong-suit, anyway. That was always Cheren’s. If he had been there, he would have stopped her from walking outside until her Pokémon were healed.

Now… her Pokémon weren’t anywhere to be seen within this cell, and she was completely alone.

Hilda finally managed to grab the hem of her shirt, and she tugged, hoping to rip it apart. But she couldn’t even move her fingers on her right hand anymore—she didn’t know if that was because the Pawniard dug so deep into her skin that it damaged her muscles or if the pain was just too much for her. Either way, that left her only to tug with her left hand.

After a couple of minutes, she gave up without any success and realized there was another way. She pulled off her black vest and wrapped the whole thing around her wound, and it stung even worse now that something was touching it.

A door opened as she finished wrapping, light pouring in as a person carrying a lantern entered. “Champion Hilda, welcome.”

Hilda sat up straighter against the wall and smiled at the Shadow. He was carrying a tray, along with that lantern, but he didn’t do anything with it immediately as he entered.

“I’m going to assume you’re not going to tell me where I am or what you want from me, so I’ll save you from thinking up excuses. Just think about what you’re doing,” Hilda pleaded. “Team Plasma already lost to me once, and I won’t lose again. If you think this is the right thing—that this will help you—you’re wrong. You can still let me go.”

The Shadow set the tray down just within Hilda’s cage—that was what it was, wasn’t it? “Make this last,” he told her, and he left the room.

It wasn’t very much, just bread and water, and it didn’t last very long at all. Hilda didn’t want to eat it—mostly because she feared it was poisoned—but her hunger overtook her as the day passed into the next. She wasn’t satisfied when it was gone, but at least she was alive, meaning they hadn’t been trying to poison her.

No, they planned something worse.

The day turned over into the next… which they turned over into the next again. The Shadow Triad never returned to the room in which she waited. Every attempt she made to escape failed… and she grew weaker with every passing hour. Her stomach growled, and her throat craved water. And on top of all that, her arm still shook with pain.

Eventually, one had to give up. Hilda never planned to stop fighting, but her body worked differently than her mind. She was too weak. She hadn’t eaten or drank anything in days, and she was fairly certain that her wound was infected.

No one was coming for her. Not her friends, not the Shadow Triad…

She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. But this time when they closed, they never opened back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of all of this ORAS hype (which, don't get me wrong, I'm totally a part of), here's another update of this fic. Hope you're all enjoying the new games if you got them.


	12. Shattered and Destroyed

Cheren bounced against Arcanine’s back as the beast ran, and it was all he could do to keep his grip on its fur. He hadn’t the strength to push himself up and look back for Rosa, but it was too late for that, anyway. She was long gone, faded into the darkness that he left behind. There was no going back now.

Though, that didn’t mean Cheren wouldn’t try. “Stop. You have to go back for Rosa. She’s your trainer!” he told the Arcanine, but it just kept running. If it could speak, Cheren knew what its reply would be. “I know she can handle herself, but…” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning his forehead against Arcanine’s back. “All right.”

On the one hand, he knew now that the Shadow Triad was not unwilling to murder someone to get them out of the way. If they got to Rosa…

He couldn’t think on that now. She gave him a direction—he was to get out of here and go to the police. They were in over their heads, anyway, and once Cheren found the police and informed them of the Shadow Triad’s doings, he would turn right back around and come for Rosa and N. They would be okay for a little while.

And he… _he_ would be okay, too. As painful as all of this had been—as terrible and horrific as it was, as much as he could barely believe that this was real—he would make it through this alive. His hunger would be satisfied with a good meal, his exhaustion would fade away with sleep, and even his scars would heal with time.

He would never forget his last sight of Hilda, but the pain _would_ cease.

The way out of the sewers was not a simple path, and Cheren felt more lost as Arcanine continued through the deeper, darker paths towards the tunnels lit with flickering fluorescent lamps. He couldn’t hear anything behind them, and when he glanced back, all he saw was the blackness of the tunnel. The faint light from their current tunnel didn’t go deep into the one before.

All Cheren knew was that it took minutes upon minutes to get out of there. A few times, Arcanine stumbled into dead-ends—even the Pokémon didn’t know how to find the exit, though perhaps with its sense of smell and its night-vision, it was better off than Cheren alone. But a half-hour, or maybe a whole hour, passed before Cheren saw the staircase leading to the outside.

The light outside blinded him, though not from the sun, which had set. The streetlights kept the city bright, and it was surprisingly loud. Castelia was well-known for its nightlife, anyway. The noise from the city traveled far, carrying all the way to this empty pier, but it was a pleasant transition from the eerie silence of the sewers or the _drip-drip-drip_ of the pipes.

 _When you get outside, find Reshiram_ , Rosa had instructed. _It should be there somewhere waiting for N to come out, but if it sees_ you, _it’ll come—take it and go to the police._

Cheren slid off Arcanine’s back, slumping against the poor, tired beast. “Reshiram!” he called through a coarse, weak voice. He cleared his throat, as if that would help any. “Reshiram, please, we need your help!”

Only the whisper of the wind responded, at least at first. Then, over the city’s din, Cheren could hear Reshiram’s familiar roar. He turned his gaze upward to the sky, where Reshiram circled a couple of times before diving down. It landed like a feather despite its size and weight, but it was not so quiet now. Upon seeing Cheren, it roared once again, this time in his face.

“I’m sorry I’m not N.” Cheren reached a shaking hand towards Reshiram and patted its nose. “I’m not even Rosa… But I need your help, and so do they. Can you bring me to the Castelia police station?”

It roared a little more softly this time, and Cheren patted it again. He put in as much effort as he could into climbing up on the dragon’s back without much success, and after a couple of failed attempts, Arcanine helped lift him up by pushing its head against his rear-end. Cheren tried not to think on that too much.

Then, looking back at Arcanine, he held out a hand. “You’ll need to wait here. I don’t feel good about that, but I don’t have your Poké Ball. Just… go try to hide somewhere inconspicuous. If you sense any danger, protect yourself, even if that means running away. We’ll come back for you later.”

Arcanine whined a little, but it was clear that it understood the directions. With one last bark, it turned and ran into a darkened corner of the pier.

“Okay.” Cheren rubbed Reshiram’s neck. “Let’s go.”

It felt nice being out of the sewers, as putrid and dirty as they were, but Cheren knew he couldn’t revel in that for too long. In just a matter of time, he’d be right back in them again. The fresh air and the cleanliness of the city could only be revered for so long, though he would never take the aboveground for granted again.

When they landed in front of the police station, Cheren received some strange looks from passing pedestrians as he dismounted from Reshiram’s back. _Trust me_ , he thought a little bitterly, _I’d much rather have my own Pokémon right now._

He just hoped they were okay…

“Wait for me,” Cheren ordered. He was aware that the only reason this beast was obeying him at all right now was because it was worried about N, but that was good enough for him.

He limped into the station, and when he stopped in front of the front desk, the policeman finished whatever he was working on before looking at Cheren. “How can I…” the policeman, a middle-aged gray-haired man, began, only to trail off, but it wasn’t exactly concern that stopped him. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I was in the sewers—”

“Yeah, I can smell that.” The policeman rolled his eyes but continued before Cheren could explain. “You _are_ aware that the sewers have been off-limits to civilians for over six months, aren’t you? The whole system has been declared a hazardous zone. Only the workers are allowed in there for check-ups.”

Cheren was fuming now, and he slammed his hands down on the counter. “Well, those workers aren’t doing a good job. When was the last time they checked the deeper areas? Because there’s a body that has been there for… years.”

The policeman’s face went serious for the first time, but he shook his head after thought passed through his eyes. “That’s impossible. No one is allowed within the center radius of the sewers. That’s been the law, for both workers and civilians, for over a decade. There have been barriers set up and everything.”

The barriers… it was possible that the Shadow Triad had removed them and put them in the maintenance room where they kept Hilda and Cheren…

“I was in there. Team Plasma… ah, uh, the Shadow Triad of the old Team Plasma—they kidnapped Champion Hilda, and she’s dead. She was in the sewers in a maintenance room, and… they took me, too, and kept me in there with her body…” Cheren gripped the edge of the counter now, his knuckles burning white. “And now they’ve got one of my friends, and Champion Rosa is down there trying to help him.”

The policeman’s serious expression didn’t last very long, and now he stared at Cheren with one eyebrow raised. “All right, sir. If you would like to file a missing persons report…”

“No, none of them are missing! Champion Hilda was _murdered_. Her _bones_ are down there—she’s been down there for years! And N and Rosa are trying to stop the Shadow Triad, who were the ones who murdered Hilda,” Cheren explained desperately, but nothing seemed to change the policeman’s mind.

“Sir, perhaps if you go home and rest, you’d feel better.”

Cheren’s rage was fueled now, and any exhaustion that he felt in his own bones had been burnt up in the flames within him. “Do you know who I am?” he demanded, knowing that playing this card might be the only thing to help him now. “I’m the Aspertia City Gym Leader—I’m not some kid with a prank. There are real people below this city who need your help, and if you’re just going to sit here and do nothing, then you can’t call yourself the police!”

The trump card worked. “All right. I’ll get a team deployed down there.”

“Thank you.” Cheren’s grip on the counter loosened. “Just tell me when.”

\- - - - -

The Shadow pressed harder on N’s neck, and it wasn’t long before he succumbed to the darkness, too. No matter how hard he fought back, it was three-against-one. He knew as well as they did that he didn’t stand much of a chance against them alone. But it didn’t matter much—maybe he’d have a shot at convincing Ghetsis he meant no harm, assuming that the man didn’t kill him before he had a chance to fight back.

But N opened his eyes again not a half-hour later, unbeknownst to him, only to find that he had been taken from the garden. He didn’t know where he was exactly, but the air was thicker and mustier here—as well as less odorous.

He sat up, and the ground beneath his palms was earth. As he blinked the haze away from his eyes, a dim light let his eyes adjust, and he saw that the walls were earth, as well. The Shadow Triad had brought him to a cave. But there were caves all over the region… nay, beyond that. How long had he been out?

A flash of white in the corner of his eye made him jump, and his eyes met that of a Shadow again. The man sat cross-legged on the ground, his back leaned against the cave wall not unlike N. And though there was distance between them now, N couldn’t help but feel something constrict around his neck. He reached a hand up but couldn’t feel anything.

“You’re awake, Lord N.”

N nodded, lowering his hand from his neck. “Where are we?”

The Shadow chuckled quietly, the joke too unimportant to share, and the sound felt like grinding metal to N now. If only N had displayed more caution, but the only reason he followed the Shadows was to make sure Rosa got to Cheren—had she? Had this all been for naught, or had it all worked out?

No, the Shadow Triad had all released some Bisharp back into the sewers before they killed the innocent Eevee. The probability that they sent their Pokémon to find Rosa and Cheren was high—who else would they have gone to, if not Hilda?

It gave him some hope, though. Maybe they _had_ gone after Hilda, and she was still alive and fighting.

“Worry not, my lord. We’re still in Unova. We had an audience with Lord Ghetsis, you see,” the man, who might be more fit to call a monster, explained. N’s stomach churned a little, but the emotion behind his uneasiness couldn’t quite be described. “Unfortunately, he wasn’t pleased with us. Well, he was until he found out that you had not been broken yet.”

“What do you mean?” N questioned.

The Shadow sighed, holding his hand up to stop N from asking further questions. “We took it upon ourselves to do something wonderful for Lord Ghetsis a couple of years ago. It would be dishonorable to have bragged about it then, so when we arrived here with you, we finally told him what we did. He was pleased—very pleased—but when we presented you and told him that you did not yet know…” The Shadow shivered, but it was obvious behind the fabric that he was smiling. “It’s easier to destroy something that’s already broken.”

N felt somewhat relieved. Ghetsis had the chance to kill him already, and the man refused to do so. Sure, whatever the Shadows had planned now didn’t sound good exactly, but maybe it meant that, deep down, Ghetsis didn’t want his son dead.

Or maybe he just wanted N to be as broken as he felt upon his second defeat.

N’s relief did not last long. The Shadow’s quiet giggles grew louder and louder until they filled the whole cave and echoed off the walls. And in that moment, it dawned on N what the only thing that held the power to break him was that they hadn’t used against him yet. They had already murdered an innocent Pokémon; they had already tricked him. There was one thing left—the one thing they had been using as leverage.

The Shadow must have seen the realization in N’s eyes because he stopped laughing at once. “We didn’t kill her,” he whispered, though in the silence of the space, it sounded much louder. “She just… died.”

If Ghetsis wanted to see N broken… he would get exactly what he wanted.


	13. Premonition

Alder called his dreams outrageous… worthless.

N knew better than anyone that his dream of a world where Pokémon were free from their trainers was neither outrageous nor worthless. He saw how beautiful a world like that would be. And if the Champion, a man made weak by the loss of his partner, couldn’t understand that, then he had no right being the Champion at all.

It didn’t matter anymore. N was the Champion now.

Hilda would be back there with Alder conspiring now on how to stop the Team Plasma King. If anyone could stop him, it would be Hilda, and it was fate that would allow them to come face-to-face one final time. It would be ideals pit against truths, and one deserved to make it through more than the other. Hilda had been chosen just as N had, after all.

N asked the Shadow Triad to take care of her and bring her to the inner chambers when she prepared herself. He wanted a fair fight. It was only right.

Minutes passed of N waiting on his throne for Hilda. He leaned his cheek against his hand and sat patiently, knowing that she would inevitably come. Ghetsis, at the very end of the hall, paced back and forth, and N eyes twitched back and forth as he watched his father. The man was uneasy for some reason.

“Ah!” he finally exclaimed, ceasing movement altogether. “I hear footsteps outside. She must be here.”

With that, Ghetsis vanished from the throne room, and N sat up a little straighter. The moment had come—this would all lead up to a final battle between Hilda and himself, and he was eager to see the result. Once Hilda passed through that archway into this throne room, the stage would be set. There would be no choice but to battle.

When had battling become so desirable?

Her tiny figured entered the room, dimly lit from the hall behind her. But as she stepped further into the room, she was bathed in light, and even from where N sat, he could see her awed expression.

“What I desire,” N began, “is a world for Pokémon and Pokémon alone. I will separate Pokémon from people, so Pokémon can regain their original power.”

He stood up from his throne and made his way down the carpeted path towards Hilda. She stood tall and still, and her awed expression hardened into something more serious. He tried to ignore the way his heart pounded with his every step, but it was easier said than done. When she gave him that look… no, it made no difference. It was just the excitement of this whole day.

He stopped in the middle of the carpeted path and pointed at the girl who would be his opponent. “It’s time to settle this once and for all!” N called down to Hilda. “My determination is absolute! I will prove the value of my beliefs even if it means my Pokémon friends get hurt! Since you’ve come this far, I believe you are equally determined. If that’s so, prove it to me! Show me the depth of your determination!”

And she was determined, all right. There was power in her steps; it was as if the whole floor shook as she walked, as if the force with which she curled her hands into fists made the world around them break apart. The furrow of her brow darkened her face even further, and it was no coincidence that N’s heart beat harder.

He walked, too, though not as fiercely as she did. They met halfway at the platform at the end of the carpet. They faced each other, and Hilda raised a hand slowly towards him; he turned and stepped away before she could touch him.

“You came all this way to battle me… but Zekrom is not responding,” he noted, and he could see her hand move towards her bag out of the corner of his eye. “You haven’t yet been recognized as the hero, have you? How disappointing. I actually kind of liked you a little. Through our many battles, I got the feeling that you might be a trainer who truly cares for Pokémon.” He faced her again and shook his head. “But I was kidding myself.”

“A little?” Hilda questioned, taking her chance and reaching for him again. She grabbed the collar of his white shirt and let her wrist lean against his collarbone. He ignored how violently she was shaking. “Only a little? N… through our battles… I…” She hit her other hand against his chest and then stepped away from him altogether, letting her arms fall back to her sides. “I actually kind of liked you a lot.”

“The idea of trainers getting to know each other through battles is ridiculous!” N countered, his voice the loudest and angriest that Hilda had ever heard it. There was just no way she could feel anything like that for him—no possible way. “You have two options: challenge me to a fight you can’t win, or leave this place and watch the birth of a new world where Pokémon are free of people!” He raised an arm above his head. “Reshiram! Come to me!”

The whole building shook for a moment, and Hilda glanced around in a panic. Reshiram burst through the wall behind the throne, and debris soared through the air around them. Hilda covered her face, only opening her eyes and lowering her hand again as Reshiram landed behind N. Fire erupted around them, and it was as if the castle just crumbled from the sheer heat.

Hilda and N stood close to each other as pieces of the ceiling dropped around them and as the pillars went down, but it wasn’t the destruction of the room that held their attention—the sheer size of the dragon had them both staring.

“N…” Hilda began, but she was distracted as her bag started to shake. She reached into it and came out with the Dark Stone, which trembled vigorously in her hand.

“Your Dark Stone is…” N shook his head. “I mean, Zekrom is…”

The stone continued to shake even as it began to glow, and it broke free of Hilda’s grasp and floated above them.

It was as if a cyclone had entered the room. The stagnant air began to blow, whipping their hair around their heads and dragging their feet across the floor. “What’s happening?” Hilda shouted to N, and then everything ceased like all of the wind had been absorbed into the stone.

But the eye of the storm passed, and the stone erupted.

A black form grew from the tiny stone, landing and spreading its wings. And, as a challenge to Reshiram, when the great dragon Zekrom opened its eyes, electricity burst from it, and more of the castle ceiling began to fall. Hilda crouched on the floor, covering her head, and N stepped away from the falling rubble.

When things were calm again, Hilda stood back up. “Wow…”

“Zekrom and Reshiram…” N introduced, standing near the girl again. “They were once one life. One Pokémon. Complete opposites, yet the same. Zekrom and Reshiram are Pokémon that appear before the hero they recognize.” He laughed, touching the tip of his hat. “Ah… I see. You really are a hero, too. I’ll tell you what that Pokémon is saying to you. ‘I want to battle with you. Try to make me your friend and ally.’ It plans to test you to see if you are really pursuing ideals. I, also, am curious to see how powerful you are. Now, catch Zekrom and make it your ally.”

Most of N’s encounters with Hilda had been in battle alone—this was the first time he was watching her meet a wild, untamed Pokémon, and he was curious to see how she would treat it.

But even though he knew how she would act, even though he knew he shouldn’t be surprised, he watched in awe as she raised a hand to the dragon.

“Please trust me,” she whispered to Zekrom.

Watching Hilda become the hero—watching her be tested by Zekrom and watching her succeed—made his heart ache a little. For the first time today, N wasn’t so eager to battle her anymore. No matter how highly he spoke of himself, even he was aware that against Hilda he stood no chance. And watching Hilda cradle the Poké Ball that now contained Zekrom like it was the most delicate thing in the world, he knew how the events would transpire today.

The world moved in formulas. One led to the next, and the way things were going, N saw the end result.

“Hold on,” N walked towards Hilda and put his hands on top of hers. She stared at him in surprise, but once the shock faded, she smiled gently at him. “Your Pokémon are hurt. There is no triumph to be gained in battling a weakened opponent.” N healed her team, including her newest partner, before rejoining Reshiram. “Now, I will create the future I desire! I shall sweep you before me!”

N lost to Hilda over and over. The probability of him winning here was near zero, and still he spoke as if he would reign victorious. But not even Hilda questioned this. She just nodded and let Zekrom do the talking for her. And already N could hear its voice—Hilda asked it to please trust her… and it did. It already did…

Reshiram and Zekrom had always been opposites, not unlike Hilda and N. So, why, despite their differences, did it seem like they belonged together?

The first hit came from Zekrom. Reshiram withstood it, roaring back at the other Pokémon. But they didn’t spit words of hatred at each other. It was a challenge…

“Do you really think you can stop us with that?” N demanded.

He realized now why he kept bragging; it egged Hilda on. The more he spoke about winning, about being unstoppable, the stronger she got. She used his strength to fuel hers, and that had always been the case. Maybe it was something in his subconscious telling him to push her even further, or maybe it was just coincidence.

No, there were no coincidences.

“N, listen to me. I met Anthea and Concordia. They told me that you know trainers don’t battle to hurt Pokémon, but your opinions are tainted from the time you spent here,” Hilda cried. Her voice was strained and desperate, and N’s fingers curled into his palms. “And they said that Ghetsis only brought Pokémon that had been hurt to be with you. You know this, don’t you?”

Well, he probably knew _that_ deep down, too. Hilda would never hurt her Pokémon… but from the start, it was always Ghetsis who encouraged him.

But Hilda didn’t represent the majority.

Even though he knew the end from the beginning, this all hurt too much.

N shook his head, pushing Hilda’s words out of his mind. “Is the world going to choose you—and not me?” he yelled at her. His last Pokémon, his oldest friend, a Zoroark that had been his friend for years, was nearly finished.

“It doesn’t have to be a choice between you and me! We can face the world together!” she screamed back, her eyes squeezed shut in pain—in heartache. “Emboar… end this…”

Zoroark went down with a last attack from Hilda’s Emboar. As it hit the floor, N felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. Knowing this might come didn’t mean that he was any more prepared for it. The world chose Hilda—there was no “together”. She was the victor, and he was the loser.

“Everything’s ruined.” His voice squeaked as he spoke now, and he held a hand against his throat. “The truth I held… the dreams Pokémon shared…” He paused and lowered the hand from his throat. “Reshiram and I were beaten. Your ideals… your feelings… they were stronger than mine, it seems.”

“Nothing is ruined, N, and my feelings weren’t stronger than yours—they were equal. I’ve been trying to tell you all along that we could do this together,” Hilda explained, and N’s gaze shot to hers. “I asked you to come with me and see, but you didn’t. That was your choice. But you would’ve seen sooner that I am no more _right_ than you. It’s _together_ that we learn.”

His heart still beat… his chest still rose and fell with every breath… he was still here.

And Hilda…

Together?

“Zekrom and Reshiram… each of them choosing a different hero… is that even possible? Two hearts living at the same time—one that pursues ideals and one that pursues truth. Could… could they both be right?” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “I don’t know. It’s not by rejecting different ideas, but by accepting different ideas that the world creates a chemical reaction. This is truly the formula for changing the world.”

Hilda grinned. “You’ve got it!”

“After all of that,” a third voice interrupted, “do you think you’re still worthy of sharing the name Harmonia with me? You good-for-nothing boy!”

And the grin was gone as quickly as it came.

Ghetsis’s face had contorted like a snake rearing his ugly head at critical mass. He stood beside Hilda, and she side-stepped away from him, shooting a panicked look towards N. From what Concordia said, Ghetsis was the manipulator of everything here—he was the one who gave all of those broken Pokémon to N.

“To start with, I spurred N into pursuing the truth. The reason we reawakened the legendary Pokémon now was to give _my_ Team Plasma more power! Power to control the fearful masses! That at least was well done,” Ghetsis explained, not without some sarcasm at the end.

He stepped away from Hilda and moved towards N next. Hilda, who always thought they looked surprisingly alike, now noticed how different the two were. N, tiny and innocent, did not cower from his father, but he didn’t hold the same brooding demeanor as Ghetsis. The older man towered above his son, clearly controlling more anger than N could ever even have.

“After saying you had to put your beliefs on the line and battle to see which one chosen by the legendary Pokémon was the true hero… you lost to an ordinary trainer! There is such a thing as being too stupid! Add it up, and you are nothing more than a warped, defective boy who knows nothing but Pokémon…”

“Hey!” Hilda shouted. She could barely fathom the cruel words coming out of Ghetsis. “Shut your mouth! N isn’t defective! He’s a good person!”

N couldn’t speak back to his father—he never had been able to. But Hilda… was she standing up for him? If Hilda wasn’t there, N would have accepted Ghetsis’s words—he would have believed himself to be warped and defective. But if Hilda didn’t think so, then who was right?

“Hilda! I never would have thought the legendary Pokémon would choose a trainer like you! It caught me completely off guard.” Ghetsis smiled at her, and it was enough to make her skin crawl. “This doesn’t change my goal. My plans have not been disturbed. In order to rule this world utterly, in order to manipulate the hearts of people who know nothing, I will have N be the king of Team Plasma. But, for that to work, you—since you know the truth—you must be eliminated!”

Eliminated? But… N didn’t want this…

The sound of footsteps approaching distracted all three in the throne room, however. “Cheren, Alder!” Hilda cried, and the two stood beside her. “You heard that?”

“Rule the world?” Cheren questioned. Now that three people knew the truth, what was Ghetsis to do now? Kill them all? “Wasn’t Team Plasma’s goal to liberate Pokémon?”

Ghetsis cackled, and Hilda’s eyes flickered towards N. He shook his head at her. The poor boy didn’t know anything about this, did he?

“That was just a convenient lie that I needed to create Team Plasma. Use your head.” Ghetsis laughed again, the sound surprisingly demeaning. “What’s to be gained from letting go of useful things like Pokémon? Certainly, manipulating Pokémon helps people expand their possibilities. That much, I can agree with. So it naturally follows that only I should be able to use Pokémon!”

“You fool!” Alder shouted. “That’s a ridiculous idea!”

Hilda’s head was spinning. Ghetsis wanted to rule the world… he used N—innocent, pure-hearted N—to convince everyone to release their Pokémon… just so he could be the only one to control their power? He was insane! Absolutely insane! And poor N had been the one to suffer from all of it.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him, but neither could he look away from her.

“You can say whatever you want,” Ghetsis continued. “A Pokémon, even if it’s revered as a deity, is still just a Pokémon. Hilda, so what if it chose you? That doesn’t mean you’re a threat. Come on!” She finally looked away from N, just to stare into the eyes of the only defective one here. “Now you’ll face _me_ in battle! I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you’ve lost all hope!”

“Hilda!” N shouted. He didn’t want this. He couldn’t let Hilda get hurt—it was all his fault…

Ghetsis held out a hand. “I won’t allow anyone to stop me! No matter who does what!” he screamed, his voice breaking with every word.

“I’ll be fine. Just…” Hilda patted her Emboar, who had already been weakened by N’s Zoroark, and sighed. “Let me do this.”

N was used to being terrified about what might happen to a Pokémon during a battle, but never before had he been scared to think that a human might suffer at the hands of another trainer. But he had no choice but to trust Hilda—if he wanted her trust, he would have to trust her, too. If anything happened to her, though…

If anything happened to her…

She would be fine. She could handle herself—and she did. Ghetsis, though strong, could not compare his strength to hers. Where N and Hilda had beliefs that were equally as strong, Hilda’s outshone Ghetsis’s evil plot. The fate of the world was on the line—no, her _own_ fate was on the line—and she wouldn’t give up.

As his Pokémon fainted one-by-one, the rage in Ghetsis’s eyes grew more demented. Hilda would never admit it, but it scared her. Still, she fought on, and she would fight on until she won.

But just because she won didn’t mean it was over…

“My calculations… no! My careful schemes! The world should be mine!” Ghetsis screeched.

“Give up!” Hilda cried back.

Ghetsis grabbed tendrils of his hair, and his small audience stared at him with wide eyes. “ _What?_ I created Team Plasma with my own hands! I’m absolutely perfect! _I am perfection!_ I am the perfect ruler of a perfect new world!”

He had gone mad… absolutely mad…

“Now, N… do you still think Pokémon and people should be separated?” Alder called.

N was confused… he didn’t want his father to win because he didn’t want Hilda to get hurt. But… was it still wrong to believe that Pokémon and people needed to live apart? He grew up thinking like that. He spent _years upon years_ of his life believing that separation was necessary. And the only reason he thought that way was because Ghetsis conditioned him to believe it? Because his father wanted to take over the world?

His head hurt…

Ghetsis, seeing the pain cross N’s face, laughed again. “Since I couldn’t become the hero and obtain the legendary Pokémon myself… I prepared someone for that purpose—N! He’s nothing more than a freak without a human heart. Do you think you’re going to get through to a warped person like that?”

“ _You_ —” Hilda started forward, but Cheren grabbed her wrist.

“Alder, it’s a waste of valuable time listening to him ramble on,” her friend said, dropping Hilda’s wrist and stepping in front of her. Alder had moved forward, too, and Hilda glanced between them. “He is the one without a human heart!”

Hilda’s eyes had begun to water, but she wiped them dry with the back of her hand. “Cheren…”

“You’re right. He’s truly pitiful,” Alder agreed. “N… I’m sure you have much to think about. I know you were not pursuing ideals because of Ghetsis’s manipulation, but because your heart was truly inspired.” N’s head shot up, and he stared at the former Champion. “That is why you were able to meet the legendary Pokémon!”

“But… I have no right to be the hero!”

“Is that so?” Alder smiled at the young man. “What you and the legendary Pokémon are going to do from now on… that’s important, wouldn’t you say?”

N shook his head. This only confused him more… why was Alder showing him such kindness? They had been enemies only minutes ago! N used force to take away his Champion title! So, why did Alder treat him this way now?

“Acting like you understand… up till now, we’ve been fighting each other over our beliefs! Yet, despite that… why?” N’s voice was soft, but so was Alder’s smile.

“N, even if we don’t understand each other, that’s not a reason to _reject_ each other. There are two sides to any argument,” he explained. “Is there one point of view that has all the answers? Give it some thought.”

With that, and with a final smile in N’s direction, Alder stepped forward and grabbed one of Ghetsis’s arms. Cheren took the other, and together, Alder and Cheren pulled Ghetsis from the throne room. The true leader—the true mastermind of all that was wrong in this world—struggled, but they managed to take him away.

And that left Hilda alone again with N.

He was the first one to move, and he walked towards her and faced her. She couldn’t imagine the inner turmoil he had to be facing right now—and she couldn’t forgive Ghetsis for what he had said about N. It was impossible to fathom how a father could raise his son as a tool. The mere thought brought tears to her eyes again.

She loved N. She couldn’t understand why Ghetsis didn’t.

“I want to talk to you about something,” N said.

Hilda nodded, stepping towards him but not touching him like she wanted to. She knew that he was confused enough as it was. “Okay.”

He gestured for her to follow him, and they walked side-by-side up towards the throne at the head of the room. But halfway to the throne, N stopped, and Hilda turned to face him. He stayed facing forward, though, staring at the hole behind where the gilded chair had once been.

“It’s about when I first met you in Accumula Town. I was shocked when I heard what your Pokémon was saying.” N turned to face her now, his expression serious. “I was shocked because that Pokémon said it liked you. It said it wanted to be with you.”

When he started walking along the carpeted path again, Hilda didn’t say anything—she simply followed until he stopped once again.

“I couldn’t understand it,” he continued. “I couldn’t believe there were Pokémon that liked people. Because, up until that moment, I’d never known a Pokémon like that. The longer my journey continued, the more unsure I became. All I kept meeting were Pokémon and people who communicated with one another and helped one another. That was why I needed to confirm my beliefs by battling with you. I wanted to confront you hero-to-hero. I needed that more than anything.”

He walked again, but this time, Hilda only took a couple of steps forward. He moved up onto the platform, so he stood a foot or so above her, and the sudden distance bothered her. For some reason, that distance made her think that this was the closest they’d ever get again. She didn’t want that.

“There’s no way a person like me, someone who understands only Pokémon—no, actually… I didn’t understand them, either.” He laughed, though there was no humor in it. “No way could I measure up to you, when you had met so many Pokémon and were surrounded by friends…”

“N, what…”

Hilda stepped up on the platform, too, but N turned his back on her and walked to the hole in the wall. It was a straight shot down—there was nothing out there but air.

“The Champion has forgiven me, and… what I should do now is something I’ll have to decide for myself.”

“N…” Hilda said again.

He didn’t respond to her, but instead let his Reshiram out into that crisp, clear air. It was tired, but it had regained enough energy in that Poké Ball to fly. The strength of its wings was enough to blow into the room, and Hilda and N’s hair fluttered in the breeze.

N turned back to face her, and he smiled—she felt like she hadn’t seen a real smile from him in so long, but it didn’t make her feel good. It tugged at her heartstrings.

“Hilda.”

“Don’t leave,” she pleaded.

But he ignored her, even as the first tear trickled down her cheek. “You said you have a dream… that dream… make it come true! Wonderful dreams and ideals give you the power to change the world! If anyone can, it’s you, Hilda!”

“N.” The tears fell steadily down Hilda’s face now. “I wish you happiness. I hope you find a dream, too.”

“Well, then…” N held up a hand—just held it up but didn’t wave it. “Farewell!”

He turned and jumped, landing on Reshiram’s back. The way things were, he had to leave. If he wanted to find a new dream—if he wanted to understand what he had done, then it was the only choice. He was sure, anyway, that he would see Hilda again. He would come back someday and find her again.

In the time being, she could always take care of herself.

He couldn’t look back—if he did, he’d see Hilda standing at the edge of that room, staring out at him, and he didn’t want to be pulled back in.

She had been right, of course. It wasn’t just “a little”. That was why this hurt so much, even though he knew he was making the right choice.

But if anything happened to her… he wasn’t sure he could have a dream at all.


	14. Hope

Time stopped. N could no longer feel his heart beating, and without it, there was no proof that he still lived. There wasn’t even pain, and what was life without it?

Like light and darkness, black and white, one could not exist without the other, and once one became extinguished, the world turned to nothingness. It became a void too deep to even be fathomable, but it was the void that made existence what it was. Only death was to know how to define nothingness.

But as N sat before the Shadow Triad and their words sunk in, everything seemed to fade away.

A Shadow’s words shocked him back to life, though, a sudden reminder that darkness still existed. “Here’s the real zinger,” the man offered. “Your friends both knew before you. The gym leader knew first, and, well, if he didn’t tell Champion Rosa, she knows now. While these two brought you over here, I went to pick up the strays. Of course… one of them got away… but he’ll be back soon.”

Rosa’s name echoed in N’s blank mind, and suddenly he remembered the others. Cheren, Rosa…

His friends…

Oh, he was a terrible person. It was all N’s fault that Hilda was dead. If he hadn’t gotten her involved with Team Plasma in the first place, none of this would have happened—if he hadn’t been so determined to clash with the other hero, to prove to her that his opinions weren’t worthless, she would still be alive. There was no argument: N was the reason why Hilda was dead now.

And to make matters worse, he got Cheren and Rosa involved in this, too. N had pushed for Rosa to come here… and she regretted it from the start. Just when he thought he was helping her, just when there was a chance for Rosa and Cheren to make it out if he agreed to go with the Shadow Triad, he got it all wrong. The Shadows caught her again.

But… Cheren made it out. That was what it sounded like, at least. But if N knew him—he didn’t know Cheren _well_ , but he did know him a little—then that arrogant gym leader would come right back with some help, even if that meant putting himself in danger all over again. He was just that kind of guy.

Hilda was dead…

Rosa was captured…

Cheren was gone…

N was leverage.

“The question is,” one of the other Shadows began, “do you still want to fight? You’re more than welcome to give up now and turn yourself over to our lord Ghetsis. It would be less effort all around, and we’re all starting to get a little bit tired.” The rest of the group nodded. “Aren’t _you_ tired, my lord?”

Fight? How could N be expected to fight now? His reason for fighting was gone forever.

No… no, that wasn’t true. Hilda had never been a reason to _fight_ —she had been a reason to hope. From the beginning, she was the reason to hope that people and Pokémon could live together in peace. She was the reason to hope that ideals and truths could coexist—hell, that differing opinions could coexist with and _respect_ each other.

So, maybe hope was gone… but his ability to fight wasn’t.

“I _am_ tired,” N admitted, pushing himself to his feet with his remaining strength. The sensation coursing through his body now was not unlike that when he thought Ghetsis might hurt Hilda all those years ago, like there was some sort of pit in his stomach. It was too late to worry about that, anyway.

If Hilda had been so easily disposed of, though, it was likely that Rosa and Cheren were next on the list.

“Indeed, my lord. I can’t even imagine how exhausted you are.” The Shadow’s fake sincerity made something thump painfully in N’s head, and he wobbled for a moment. “And if you give in now, you’ll not have to worry anymore—you won’t have to be tired anymore. You’ll be with your dear Champion again.”

N always looked for the best in people—it was his downfall, at least by Ghetsis’s count. Ghetsis, after all, was the one who complained about the fact that N _had_ to challenge Hilda, that he _had_ to give the poor girl a chance, and it was the fault of that poor, warped boy that all of Team Plasma’s plans fell apart. Caring too much and searching for the light left him defective, useless, a tool unable to be used.

And if the tool couldn’t be used, what good was it?

For so long, Hilda’s concern for N was enough to keep him satiated. She saw him as someone human—she assured him he wasn’t defective.

But now, looking at the Shadow Triad, he didn’t see anything good left in them. Their concern was only mockery and trickery—their words, that they hadn’t _killed_ Hilda, were manipulative at best. And their devotion to Ghetsis, the man who spurned and neglected his adopted son, was the root of a relationship poisonous to the whole world around them.

They were dark… evil… and if darkness couldn’t exist without light…

If darkness still existed in the Shadow Triad, then that meant there was still enough light left in the world to provide a tiny ray of hope.

\- - - - -

“Mr. Cheren?”

Cheren cracked an eye open as someone put a hand on his shoulder, and he barely prevented himself from smacking the hand away before he realized it was a cop shaking him awake. Somehow he had fallen asleep on the couch at the police station while waiting for the police to get their shit together and go.

He sat up straighter and rubbed his eyes, and the cop took a seat beside him on the couch. “How’s it going there, son? We’re almost ready to get going. You can go on and head home. We’ve got a great team on this case, I assure you.” The man clapped his hand on Cheren’s shoulder once more, but that wasn’t what made the gym leader’s eyes go wide. “We’ll—”

“Home?” Cheren repeated. He felt better _physically_ after that brief nap, but something about this whole thing still made his head hurt. “I’m not going home. I’m going with you.”

“I’m afraid not. That’d be a liability.” The cop tipped his hat down, casting a shadow over his face, and Cheren’s stomach knotted. “If what you’re saying is true, son, then it looks like you escaped a hell of a mess down there. I’d rather not put you back in the face of danger. But we’ll do the best we can to get your friends out of there.”

Cheren wrung his hands. He _had_ to go back in there. He knew—or knew better than the cops did—the sewers. He knew the smells…

“I’m a gym leader. I have a responsibility to the Champion. I’m going,” Cheren countered, and he would continue to be adamant about this. There was no other choice, even if he didn’t have any of his Pokémon right now. “Besides, I helped Champion Alder and the other gym leaders years ago when Team Plasma first became a problem. I have experience handling the Shadow Triad, which, admittedly, didn’t help that much this time…”

“Take this as an official order,” the officer said, just as firmly. “You are not allowed in those sewers again.”

“There is no _choice_ here!” Cheren practically shouted, and several other people in the room turned to stare. “I’m going, even if that means following you into those sewers and being arrested later. I wouldn’t have come to you guys in the first place if I thought that you might not let me help. Just let me do this, please.”

The cop took off his hat this time and stared at Cheren with wide eyes. The damn kid wasn’t going to give him any other option, was he?

“This is completely against regulations and protocol, so you best keep this down. I’m not losing my job over you,” the officer warned before standing up. “We leave in ten minutes.”

Cheren leaned his head back against the wall behind him, closing his eyes once again without the intention of falling asleep. He was really going back into that place. He could only hope that Rosa had made it to N and that the two of them were working their ways out. At the very least, the Shadow Triad could be predictable. If they got to Rosa, he at least knew where they would put her. As for N and his Pokemon…

“Mr. Cheren.”

Cheren rubbed his eyes and jumped to his feet. “I’m awake,” he muttered, the dryness of his voice indicating otherwise. “And it’s just Cheren.”

The force assigned to the case was made up of several veteran officers, which gave Cheren some hope that these men—and one woman—were competent enough to help fix this. The woman officer was a specialist in homicide cases, not that she would be able to do much with a body that was a couple of years old.

But this team of veterans couldn’t handle the surprise of seeing a living legend.

As soon as they exited the station, Reshiram landed in front of them and butted its head against Cheren’s arm. The officers watched in awe as Cheren patted the legendary Pokémon’s nose and assured it that N would be saved soon. Hell, if convincing the officers to let Cheren come along didn’t work, he should’ve known he could rely on a dragon.

“That’s one hell of a benefit…” one of the officers muttered.

“It doesn’t fit in the sewers,” Cheren quickly corrected. Then, turning back to Reshiram, he frowned. “I’m afraid we’ll be walking. You go ahead. I know you must not like waiting, but the next time we come out of those sewers, N will be with us.”

Reshiram roared, and Cheren couldn’t help but think the sound particularly mournful. He wondered if Reshiram couldn’t sense N’s presence at all anymore—and what that might mean… All he could do at this point was hope that N was okay and that he hadn’t given in to whatever twisted demands the Shadow Triad had.

The dragon took off, and the team headed towards the sewers. At least Arcanine was still there, Cheren discovered upon arriving. It ran out of its hiding spot with its tongue dangling out of its mouth, which it then used to lick Cheren’s face raw. If Cheren wasn’t so happy to see his friend’s Pokémon, too, he would’ve stopped the sorry beast.

“She yours?”

Cheren glanced back at the force, finally managing to push Arcanine away. “No, Rosa’s.”

“Do you think she’ll be able to sniff her out? She’ll know Rosa’s scent better than any of our Arcanines,” the policewoman wondered.

“All of our Pokémon have had trouble tracking in there. It might be because of the stench of the sewers or because of the Shadow Triad.” Cheren rubbed Arcanine’s head, and the dog licked him again. “I’m not sure… but I have an idea of where to check for Rosa first, just in case she didn’t make it to N. It’s difficult to find because of all the tunnels, but… Hilda’s remains are in there, anyway.”

“There are enough of us to split into two teams. You could go with the first team and lead them to where you think Rosa is, and the second team can begin the search for the so-called Shadow Triad,” Officer Mallory, the senior-most cop on the team, suggested. He gestured to three officers, including the homicide investigator. “You three will go with Leader Cheren.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cheren nodded, and he looked at the sewer entrance. “Let’s go.”

\- - - - -

_It was cold… so cold… and the ice just kept getting closer…_

Rosa startled herself awake as the ice struck. Was that a dream? No, she had seen that circling ice before. But that had happened long ago at this point—why was she shivering now, as if the ice was back? Was it the cool, damp floor against which she currently lie? No… The air in here was too musty.

She groaned as she tried to push herself up, and it wasn’t long before she realized why she was probably shivering. The wound on her arm was bleeding profusely, leaving the ground matted and her clothes saturated with her own blood. How she was even conscious now, she didn’t know—she had lost an awful amount of blood.

Unable to stand, she settled with leaning against the wall. At least the pain was gone. In fact, she wasn’t sure any of her senses were working. Her eyes were adjusting slowly to the small bit of light filtering into the room, but her body was numb and she couldn’t smell anything. The silence of the space was complemented with ringing in her ears.

But her sight was coming in now. Bars… there were bars in front of her.

With a heavy heart, she looked to the left. Sure enough, Hilda was there to greet her, but Rosa managed to stifle her urge to scream. Instead, she burst out laughing. Oh, her hearing worked, too. She could hear herself laugh. And the sound kept going and going, echoing within the room for what could have been minutes after she finally stopped giggling to herself.

“I wonder…” Rosa breathed to Hilda’s remains. “I wonder… how you… died. Did they… poison you? Did… they run you through? Did you bleed… to death?” Rosa gestured to her wounded arm as if Hilda could actually see it. “Did they just… forget about you? Like they said? Not sure… I’ll have time… to be forgotten…”

There wasn’t much time left, true enough. But she had to hold onto the hope that someone was coming for her, which was hope that Hilda didn’t have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think of those side characters in shows or games that are just completely useless compared to the main characters (the White Lotus comes to mind from The Legend of Korra) when I write about Cheren’s interactions with the police. Like, come on, who’s really running this show?


	15. Human

“Damn. Look at that.” Officer Mallory stopped the team and pointed his flashlight at the walls. Along the sides and on the ceiling, there were little metal prongs sticking out of the cement, as if someone had ripped a gate out of its spot. Before now, Cheren had never noticed it, probably because he wasn’t exactly looking for it, and he spent most of the time getting in and out of the sewers either unconscious or in total darkness.

“Sir?”

The officer ran his fingers over the metal sticking out of the wall. “This was the gate to the inner radius of the sewers. Beyond this area is the condemned region… more so than the rest, anyway. Who knows what kinds of toxic particles we’ll be inhaling. You sure you were in there, kid?”

Cheren nodded. Why else, he wanted to ask, would he have brought them here in the first place? Why else would the gate be ripped down if the Shadow Triad wasn’t beyond here? But he held his tongue, knowing that he was already treading on some thin enough ice as it was by even coming with the police. He was better off playing it safe this round, which his body would appreciate, too.

“Well, let’s go. When we get to a fork, we’ll split into our teams there.” Officer Mallory turned the flashlight on the rest of the group. “Sound good?”

The other officers all saluted. “Yes, sir.”

It wasn’t far to the fork in the tunnels. Cheren remembered this part, at least. He had been staring out into this area while the Shadow babysat him. Rosa and N had walked this very path, too, and it was where he heard them calling his name. If only he could remember _everything_ —where that maintenance room was, how he and Rosa had made it back there…

Arcanine, as Cheren expected, wasn’t too much help. Rosa’s scent wasn’t able to be tracked in the sewers, which had been true in every other case, too. The reasons why the Shadow Triad chose this location as the base just kept adding up. It was nearly perfect.

Nearly. But it _was_ a navigable finite enclosure.

“Arcanine can’t smell anything, and I’m not sure exactly which direction the maintenance room is. There’s no guarantee Rosa’s in there, either,” Cheren explained at the fork.

Officer Mallory rubbed his chin, the stubble scratching against his gloved hand, and hummed. “Well,” he began slowly, “your group will take the left tunnel. If my sense of direction has served me well, then the left tunnel should bring you further to the center of the sewers, while this right tunnel will bring us around the outside of the inner radius.”

It was as good a place to start as any, so Cheren nodded. The team split off into two, three going with Cheren and the other three going with Officer Mallory. Now that the group had been diminished by half, he couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t enough people. He wasn’t exactly in a position to barter for more back at the station…

“We should properly introduce ourselves, Leader Cheren,” the homicide investigator offered as the small group walked down the left tunnel. “My name is Avani. This is Rico, and the short one over there is Corby.” She gestured to the taller of the two men and then the second, the latter of whom looked a little offended at his introduction.

“And I’m just Cheren. No need to be formal,” he corrected.

The homicide investigator, Avani, was the youngest on the team aside from Cheren. She couldn’t have been more than thirty, while the two men were both at least fifty. Of course, she was the only one out of the three who was not a senior officer, though she walked with such confidence that Cheren didn’t doubt her abilities.

They all walked in silence after that, their flashlights flicking back and forth in a desperate search for any sign—anything at all. Parts of the tunnels looked vaguely familiar to Cheren, but he hadn’t been in a position earlier to memorize the place.

“You don’t have a map or anything? If anyone should have a map, it’s the police,” he accused.

Corby laughed, and the sound was a tad bitter. “Please. That makes it sound like we would know what we’re doing,” he joked, but Cheren bit his tongue before he could make that something serious. “There are supposed to be maps placed along the walls here by protocol, but it looks like they were all stripped down.”

The tunnel ended once again, leading the small group into a relatively empty room. There was a staircase on the right and a tunnel on the other end, but that was it. In the summer, it looked like this part of the sewers would fill up with water, but now that it was drained, it left the room barren with a lingering stench.

And it was a stench Cheren remembered well, the one that guided him back here with Rosa.

Arcanine bounded forward, bouncing at the foot of the stairs for attention. Cheren rubbed its head and looked up the stairs where, sure enough, there was a door—the same door that separated a world of pain from a world of ignorance. But he knew now, so there was nothing stopping him anymore… nothing to make him hesitate.

“That’s it,” he told the others.

He climbed the stairs with more ease than the last time, though exhaustion had started to catch up with him again. Halfway up the stairs as he lifted his foot, dizziness clouded his mind, but everything came back in full clarity with the pressure of a hand on his back. He grabbed the railing and glanced back, and Avani slowly pulled her hand away from him.

“You okay?” she wondered. “I know this must be tough for you.”

“I’m fine.”

Cheren continued up the stairs, and once at the door, his hand hesitated above the doorknob. There was no reason why he couldn’t enter—no reason why he couldn’t just grasp that knob. His heart had already broken, after all. What damage was left to be done to a heart that barely even functioned anymore?

Rico wasn’t patient enough, or maybe he just didn’t want to let the burden of opening that door again fall on Cheren. He nudged the boy out of the way and took the burden upon himself, opening the door to reveal the makeshift prison—a prison that a young champion would never be able to leave.

When they all entered the room, they turned their flashlights on the cell holding Hilda, only to find that someone had joined her there, and she wasn’t conscious either.

“Rosa!” Cheren cried, grabbing the bars of their cell.

“All right,” Corby said quickly, “I’m calling for back up.”

“Back up?” Cheren repeated with some desperation and some confusion. Why didn’t they just bring more people to begin with?

“We agreed on only sending the senior officers because yours was a difficult story to believe. But now…” The officer glanced at Hilda, or what was left of her, and swallowed. “Well, on behalf of the force, I apologize for not believing you. If these people—this ‘Shadow Triad’ is capable of kidnapping and murdering a champion… well, frankly, I’d like some more help.”

Cheren glanced around; Rico was working with the door on the bars now, trying to get it open to get to the two champions, and Avani was pulling on gloves and tugging plastic bags and tiny pieces of cloth from her bag. “What about Rosa?” he asked.

“I’ll get her an ambulance.”

Corby exited the room, but Cheren could hear him talking to someone just outside. He doubted the officer would be able to get a signal on his phone down here, so he had to be sending messages with a walkie-talkie.

Rico broke through the door to the cell and opened it, and Avani hurried in and began picking at what was left of Hilda. Cheren couldn’t bear to watch it, and he felt something vile rising in his throat. He barely had enough time to move before he doubled-over and heaved, and Rico and Avani flinched at the sound.

“He needs to get out of here,” Avani ordered.

“I’m fine,” Cheren croaked, but Rico grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room. Once outside, Rico helped Cheren sit down, and he ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Sorry about your friends.”

Cheren’s stomach churned. “Friends?”

Rico disappeared back into the maintenance room, leaving Cheren with a distracted and busy Corby. What did Rico mean by _friends_? Wasn’t Rosa okay? She had practically taken on the Shadow Triad single-hand back at the mountain. There was absolutely no way that she hadn’t succeeded here. She should have made it to N.

A few minutes later, Rico emerged from the room again, this time carrying Rosa in his arms. Cheren eyed her carefully; her clothes were stained red, likely from a severe wound on her arm. Compared to Rico, she was surprisingly pale, but Cheren didn’t know if the difference was amplified further by a loss of blood or not. He guessed so.

“What are you doing?” Corby demanded, lowering the walkie-talkie. He had been talking on that thing for minutes now, but Cheren couldn’t remember a word of what he said. “This is against protocol. You shouldn’t be picking her up.”

“There’s no time. I’d like to save at least one of the Champions,” Rico retorted, and Cheren raised his head—so, she was still alive? “This girl has lost a _lot_ of blood. There isn’t enough time to wait for an ambulance to come and for EMTs to find their ways here. I’m taking her outside and meeting the EMTs there.”

Corby sighed, but he didn’t give Rico any orders. “Did you prepare a tourniquet?”

Rico showed off Rosa’s arm, fit with a piece of red plastic just above the damaged skin. “It’s not going to help much. She’s already on the brink.”

There was no more conversation; Rico ran—for someone his age, he ran pretty damn fast—down the stairs and out the tunnel on the left, vanishing from sight. Cheren watched and, once they were gone, looked back at the spot where Rico just stood moments ago. There were spots of blood splattered on the floor.

“There’s nothing more we can do at this point. Rico’s got it covered. There’s no use beating yourself up about it,” Corby told Cheren. Then, into the walkie-talkie, he said, “Uh, you’re going to have to make it fast. There’s going to be a girl needing a blood transfusion—Officer Rico will meet you outside in about five.”

 _She’s on the brink_ , Rico had said. Cheren put his face in his hands. Why wasn’t he strong enough to save them?

Strength had been his driving point years ago, back when he was traveling Unova at the same time as Bianca and Hilda. One might even call it his obsession; there was nothing more important to him than becoming strong.

Yet he lost to Hilda over and over and over again.

After that first incident with Team Plasma and Ghetsis, Cheren gave up on his desire for strength, mostly because he realized that there were many different forms of it. There was strength of heart, strength of ideals, strength of mind and soul. It didn’t always translate into power. To seek just one without knowing the others didn’t work.

But now…

He came to terms with his own strengths. He knew them. But right now, Cheren didn’t have the strength that mattered. Having strong ideals or having a strong heart didn’t give Cheren enough power to have helped Hilda or Rosa. What he needed then was power. What he needed then was enough strength to stop the Shadow Triad.

And he didn’t have it.

What good was a gym leader who didn’t even have enough strength to protect his friends—no, not just his friends… he couldn’t even protect the one person he loved more than anyone else in the world. He had never been strong enough to help her. So, what good was he?

There was a hand on his shoulder after several minutes, maybe more, passed. He pulled himself out from under it when he saw its feminine form, but once he got a better look, he noticed the woman had taken off those rubber gloves.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Avani apologized.

“You didn’t,” Cheren muttered.

Corby had disappeared, and Cheren wondered where he went—though not enough to actually go looking for him; Arcanine was sniffing around at the foot of the stairs, not too concerned either. But Avani took a seat on the wall next to Cheren, her knees pulled in close to her chest and her arms folded over them. None of her stuff was with her—that bag that held all of her tools, any of the plastic bags that she took out…

“So… tell me about them.”

Cheren shot her a look, and Avani smiled encouragingly. “Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve done a lot of research over the years. I’ve been a homicide investigator for… six years now. I’m not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I _am_ good at what I do. And, you know, it’s not something you ever get used to, and when _I’m_ upset, I like to make the person human.”

Human… what made humanity, anyway? Cheren wasn’t sure he knew right now.

“I knew Hilda before she was the Champion. Rosa, too. They’re both so similar that it’s almost scary, but Rosa has always been a little more intense than Hilda.” That was probably an understatement, but Cheren couldn’t put it any other way. “Hilda liked to lean back and enjoy the ride—Rosa is the type of person who would wait the extra fifteen minutes for the front row seat and then keep her hands in the air the whole time.”

Avani laughed, and the sound echoed through the empty room, down the tunnels. “You know them both pretty well.”

Cheren nodded. “I know Hilda a lot better, though. We both grew up in the same town, and our moms put us in the same preschool with our other friend Bianca. We were all pretty much inseparable until we left for our journeys, and even then, we didn’t stay separated for that long. We’d always find each other.”

“Sounds nice to have friends like that.”

“She was more than a friend to me…” Cheren admitted, slowly and carefully, like he was about to tread on thin ice. “But I was like a brother to her. She fell in love with someone else, and… that was okay with me. As long as she was _happy_ , I was okay.” He sighed, leaning his arms against his knees like Avani. “You know, I thought about how I should be angry at N. Hilda left to find him and never came back. Because he left her, because he _hurt_ her, she’s now dead.”

Avani’s eyebrows rose. “You thought about it?”

“I’m _not_ angry. He’s been trying to find her, too. And Hilda loved him, so… I don’t want him to get hurt, either.” He breathed in and out, trying to calm down—he could feel the tingling indication that he’d cry in his nose. “Besides, he’s not a bad person. I used to hate the guy, and now I only pretend that I do.”

Sudden footsteps distracted the two of them, and they lifted their heads a little and pointed their flashlights down the stairs. Corby appeared with a larger group of men and women, and waved at Avani and Cheren to come down.

“You done, Avani?” Corby shouted up the stairs.

“Yeah, I’m going to bring the samples and the body back to the lab. Did you bring Kal?” she asked, and someone—had to be Kal—raised his hand in the group with Corby. “Hey, Kal! You want to come help me?” Avani turned, hesitating a moment and looking back at Cheren. “I wish the circumstances were better, but… it was nice meeting you, Leader Cheren. I’m sure I’ll see you around in the coming days.”

She didn’t wait for a response before retreating into the maintenance room, and Kal joined her moments later. Cheren rose to his feet, stiff from sitting so long, and Corby raised a hand at him. Once Cheren made it down the stairs, Corby ruffled his hair again.

Part of Cheren thought he was much too old for that, but the other part of him liked it. It was nice to be a kid every now and again.

“Hey. Rico just sent a message. The ambulance made it, and Rosa’s en route to the hospital.” Corby sighed. “We should have sent you, too, kid. You look awful.”

Cheren stood taller, trying to mask the exhaustion he felt. “I’m fine. We still need to find N. I’m not going back until we do.” If he had to push his body to the limits, then so be it. He wasn’t going to let N meet Hilda’s fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so they’re not as useless as those background characters like I mentioned in the previous chapter. At least this group. I can’t say anything about the group that split off looking for N (this is not meant to be as ominous as it sounds, haha).


	16. Like Father, Like Son

It hit N all at once. With the realization that there was still some hope left, that he could still stop the Shadow Triad and his father from hurting anyone else, his heart began beating again. The pain that gave a reminder of life radiated suddenly through his body from the epicenter at that beating heart, and he clutched his chest, folds of fabric pulled into his hand. It all hurt so much.

He cried out, and his weak legs gave out beneath him. The snickers of the Shadow Triad were barely audible over the sound of his own sobs, but they were there nonetheless. The group let him have his moment of vulnerability, however, surely presuming that in a few short moments, N would realize the pointlessness of existing in a world without Hilda and give himself up to them.

So, N buried his face in his hands and cried. Everything stung: the burning tears against his cool skin, the sensation of a thousand needles prodding at his heart. Even his breath came out jagged and strained, like there was some filter in his airway that only allowed him to gasp for air.

Once when N was young, he had fallen from the ramp while skateboarding and scraped his knee. Concordia and Anthea hadn’t been around that day, so he called for his father of all people. Ghetsis came, only to chastise the little boy for crying.

“Stop with that incessant crying. When has that ever solved anything? When has the clock reversed over some tears?” Ghetsis demanded of N. “Don’t be so weak.”

N absorbed those words. It was true, anyway, that nothing changed when he cried. The scraped knee would still be there—Hilda would still be dead. And to a little boy, Ghetsis’s words meant everything. He was the cold and calculating man N aspired to be. Emotions didn’t fit into the beautiful formulae N admired, and those words calling him weak whispered forever in the back of his head.

Hilda would still be dead when N’s tears dried up today. But Ghetsis’s voice wasn’t the only one in his head anymore. N knew well what Hilda would say.

“Well, crying might not solve anything, but it sure does make you feel better, huh?” She’d smile at N, maybe put a hand on his shoulder. “I see nothing wrong with shedding a few tears. It’s healthy. Some things are worth crying over, you know? I couldn’t imagine what life would be like without a good cry—because once I’m done crying, I usually feel a hundred times better and stronger.”

Her smile lingered in N’s mind, and his grip on his shirt loosened. The Shadow Triad had killed someone so beautiful, someone who lit up the world with that smile, and they had the nerve to laugh about it.

N stood up again. The Hilda in his head was right: he felt a hundred times stronger now.

“You’re going to take me to see my father now,” he barked at the Shadow Triad, and they all glanced at each other—in silence. Their snickers had ceased just as N’s tears had.

“Oh?” a Shadow questioned, and when the three looked back at N, they were smiling again beneath those black masks. Their eyes narrowed with the movement, the glare in them a bit ominous. But they bowed to N, anyway, though they didn’t lower their gazes like they usually did. It was a challenge. “Of course, my lord N. Lord Ghetsis will be so happy that you have come to your senses.”

They turned and gestured for N to follow them. It was equally as dark in these caves as it was in the sewers, so N took the opportunity to make his move. He ran his hands along the walls, digging his fingers into the loose, moist earth surrounding them and leaving a crevasse behind. Slowing his steps behind the Shadows a little, he moved his fingers up and down.

“Lord N, this way,” the Shadows called through the darkness.

N quickened his steps again, still dragging his fingers along the wall as he caught back up with the Shadow Triad. They didn’t question it, but they seldom cared about others’ actions if it didn’t immediately affect them. It was more likely that they didn’t care about what N was doing because it would bring everyone exactly where they wanted, anyway.

But N was bound to make them care soon enough. He glanced up at the stalactites and saw exactly what he needed. With a short, low whistle, there was movement above the group of four, the flapping of hundreds of wings like a burst of wind.

“Lord N, we ask that you please refrain from causing trouble. We are almost to Lord Ghetsis,” a Shadow warned, and N dropped his hands from the walls.

That was no lie. Just a hundred or so feet in front of them, N could see the glimmer of orange light, probably from a flame-lit chamber. The Shadow Triad stopped him before they entered the room, however, holding their arms out in front of him to block his path. But N could see some of the torches nailed into the cave walls from the angle where he stood.

“We must announce your arrival.” The Shadows each walked forward into the room, pivoting on their heels to the right and kneeling on the ground. “Lord Ghetsis, Lord N has come to request an audience. We did what you asked of us.”

N could practically _feel_ Ghetsis’s cold smile as the man hissed, “Perfect.” A shiver crawled up his spine.

The Shadows tilted their heads towards the boy and nodded, and N stepped forward into the room. It was a large cave chamber, lit entirely by the bright orange flames of several torches, and at the far end of the room on the right sat Ghetsis exactly as N remembered him: crooked, hard, and determined. Somewhere between his being broken and now, he fixed himself.

N’s heart hurt again seeing that man before him, though the sensation wasn’t exactly similar to how heavy his heart weighed in his chest when he thought about Hilda. Ghetsis had betrayed him, after all. No matter how desperately N wanted Ghetsis to redeem himself, the man tricked N into believing a lie and used him for selfish desires—ones that N wouldn’t have gone along with of his own volition.

He doubted that Ghetsis’s heart was as heavy as his, but didn’t his father feel _something_? If N could feel this, and Ghetsis believed him to be no more than a freak without a human heart, couldn’t someone with a real heart feel even more? _Shouldn’t_ he?

But the expression Ghetsis bore was not pained. He sat on an ornate chair, one that wasn’t quite a throne but one that was the best the Shadow Triad could bring him, with his head propped up by his only fist against his chin. His eyes, at least the one uncovered, betrayed some dark intentions, and the way his brow furrowed upon seeing N brought discomfort to the already dank chamber.

“Just when I thought I was free of you,” Ghetsis began. He turned his gaze on the Shadow Triad. “He does not appear broken to me.”

The Shadow Triad all bowed again, and unlike their bow to N earlier, they didn’t hold eye contact with Ghetsis. “We told him, my Lord,” one of the Shadows explained quietly. “If you saw him then, you would know that he is indeed broken. The tears he shed for her…”

Ghetsis smirked at this and looked back at N. “I always knew you were weak.”

N’s heart sunk further with every word. “Father, I—”

“Do not call me that!” Ghetsis roared, lifting his head from his hand. The sound alone made the flames flicker on the torches, but the sheer force of the words made N step back. “I am not your father, just as you are not my son. You are a tool, one that failed to fulfill its purpose and should have been disposed of long ago.”

Only the snapping of the fire filled the silent room now. One Shadow stepped to N’s side, one to the other, and even without looking back, N could feel the presence of the third behind him. If Ghetsis wanted to fight, they weren’t going to give N a choice to fight back this time. By coming to this place, N already sacrificed himself, and the Shadow Triad wasn’t going to let that be in vain if they could help it.

“You can still redeem yourself! You can repent for what you did to Hilda!” N yelled back, but the immediate burst of laughter stopped him from commenting further.

When Ghetsis stopped chuckling, he leaned back on his hand. “I didn’t do anything to her. The Shadow Triad did that completely on their own knowing that I had plans to conquer Unova again one day. I did always wonder why she never showed up,” he pondered, but he bore a sly grin now. “That’s one less annoyance to worry about now.”

“One less?” N repeated.

“Well, if it wasn’t for you, the second annoyance would already be dead, and I would have already gotten what I wanted.” Ghetsis’s expression turned dark, and his eyes shifted to the trio in black. “You didn’t happen to take care of her, did you?”

The Shadow to N’s left bowed again. “In progress, my Lord.”

N’s body went rigid… how was he supposed to even help Rosa from in here? He could only count on Cheren right now, but how could he when he didn’t even know if the guy was okay? Who even knew if Cheren planned on coming back? And if he didn’t, then the only one who knew Rosa was here was N.

To the Shadows, the whole thing had to be something like poetic justice, but it just made N feel sick.

Ghetsis looked pleased enough, though. “Which leaves one annoyance left.” He held up his index finger and then slowly pointed it at N. “It’s terribly hard to find loyal help these days, but I do believe the Shadow Triad has proven itself, don’t you? Without them, I would have given up completely.”

“As you should!” N countered, and Ghetsis laughed a wicked laugh.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you? Quitters never win, and I _will_ win.” Ghetsis rose from his chair and walked towards N with a limp. But he towered over N, standing so tall and so broad that the man practically radiated power from his very being. Physically, even with Ghetsis’s impairments, N didn’t stand much of a chance.

Ghetsis raised his hand towards N just as something else entered the chamber. He lowered his arm and watched the Bisharp approach his master, the Shadow on N’s left. The blade on one of its arms was bloodied, the crimson liquid still dripping off the edge even now.

“It seems we have visitors,” the Shadow commented.

With a scowl, Ghetsis looked towards the entrance to the chamber. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he gestured at two of the Shadows. “Go. Kill them all.”

_No_. Cheren had to have come back—who else could the ‘visitors’ be if not Cheren and, quite possibly, Rosa? And if the Bisharp’s blade was bloodied, that meant that someone was in trouble… and the two Shadows were about to make it worse. If any more people died because of N, he wouldn’t know what to do…

“Ghetsis, stop!” N shouted, and Ghetsis finally struck him across the face. The boy fell backward at the third Shadow’s feet.

“The world can perish for all I care!” Ghetsis screamed.

N’s eyes went wide, and he stared up at the man he could barely call his father without the faintest recognition of what that word meant. What was a father? Ghetsis was the only one he had ever known, but this couldn’t be it.

There was no helping him, was there?

N couldn’t pretend any longer. He couldn’t hope to save a man beyond saving—one who didn’t even want to be saved.

“I hate you,” he muttered, and then the words exploded from him. “I hate you! You’re a terrible person— _you’re_ the one without a human heart!” All of N’s feelings came to a boiling point, all of the neglect he felt over the years and all of the pain he suffered for this man. “You used me for your own schemes! You didn’t ever _want_ me! I’m through making excuses for you! Why should I try to help a man who wants me dead?”

It was not a feeling that N particularly liked. It made his stomach churn uneasily, and his hands shook in rage. Hatred wasn’t easy—it was easier to like someone, or at least try to tolerate them, than to feel pure _hatred_. But Ghetsis had never given N a reason to feel anything but hatred towards him.

N didn’t want to hate the man who raised him, but Ghetsis gave him no choice. That man had never cared for him.

“If only you could have felt that hatred sooner. You would have been of more use to me.” Ghetsis stared down at N with his eye barely open. “Now,” he added to the two Shadows, “destroy them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see N as the type of guy who cannot hate easily. He’d look for the best in people because that was what Hilda (or Hilbert, if you prefer) gave him hope for.
> 
> I know how easily influenced children are. N would have taken all of Ghetsis’s words for truth and put all of his trust in him; he wouldn’t have viewed Ghetsis’s treatment as abuse, when that was clearly what it was. So for N to realize that, yes, it was, is a big deal for him, I think.


	17. Automatic

Corby and the other officers talked in whispers for awhile as they walked back through the sewers towards the other team, but Cheren couldn’t focus on a word of it. He tried, figuring that whatever they had to say was probably important, but the words went in one ear and out the other, not even hitting his brain on the way out.

Instead, the only thing he _could_ focus on was his conversation with Avani. What he told her had been the truth; he wanted to be angry at N. It was only natural for him, for humans, to want to pin the blame on someone. But he already knew that the Shadow Triad was at fault, and it wasn’t as though N asked Hilda to go looking for him. Cheren had no reason to be angry with N.

Logically.

The fact remained that Hilda was in love with someone who wasn’t Cheren, and that person was an indirect cause of her death.

 _Everything_ Cheren said, though, was true. Despite all of those irrational thoughts, and with his rational ones taking precedence, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the guy or even be angry with N. The poor kid wanted and tried to find Hilda. That was more than Cheren had done prior to this. And if Hilda loved N, then—damn it—that meant that he was worth something in this world. She put her faith in him, so it was the least Cheren could do to put his in, too.

All he ever wanted was for Hilda to be happy, and she would be happiest knowing that her friends were all happy, too.

Cheren just hoped that N was okay now. But where _was_ he?

“Cheren. _Cheren_.”

A hand smacked down on the boy’s shoulder, and he flinched and hit the hand away in a knee-jerk reaction.

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, and everything else froze around them, too. _Shit_ , Cheren thought as every eye turned on him. He lowered his arm back to his side, curling his fingers—which, honestly, stung a little from the sheer force of his hit—into a fist. It wasn’t as if he _meant_ to smack away Corby’s hand. Something just sort of… came over him.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Corby began, as if he needed to apologize. “I’m still thinking that letting you tag along was a bad idea. You’ve obviously been under a great deal of stress here. You’re practically sleepwalking at this point, kid. The only thing keeping you standing is adrenaline, and I’m not sure you have much left.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Cheren snapped. _Stop_. He didn’t mean for that to come off so harsh.

“Kid, you’re not fine, and it’s okay for you to admit that and let us help you. We’re not the enemies here. It’s our job to protect the people, and I honestly don’t feel that I’m doing that by letting you stay here,” Corby countered, and every word made Cheren grit his teeth harder. “You’re a danger to yourself. We can handle it.”

Maybe it was adrenaline keeping Cheren standing because his sudden panic made him feel a bit more lively. “No, you can’t! You need me!”

But Corby ignored Cheren and turned to one of the other cops. “Blake. The ambulance with the girl has already left, but if you could get the gym leader here to the hospital…” He patted the cop’s back a couple of times with a smile, but when he looked back at Cheren, that smile made a smooth transition to a grimace. “Make this easy for us.”

When Blake stepped forward, Cheren took a step back. “I’m fine,” he repeated once more.

They were already back at the fork in the path near the entrance of the inner radius. Cheren glanced over at the tunnel leading to the exit, knowing well what the right thing to do was. The police were here. He had told them everything he knew. So, really, what else could he do for them? They were trained to take down the bad guys. He wasn’t.

And Corby was right. If Cheren was really being honest with himself, he wasn’t fine at all. His mouth still tasted like vomit, and his head spun enough that unless he focused on what was right in front of him, he saw double. He was tired and hungry, but at the same time, he didn’t want to sleep and certainly didn’t have an appetite. Not to mention, his knee-jerk reaction to Corby touching him bothered him more than it should have.

Cheren didn’t need to stay.

“Okay…” He sighed. “Arcanine, let’s go.”

Corby and his group started off before Blake and Cheren. The two stood in silence as the cops brushed past, vanishing into the tunnel the other team took. When they couldn’t see the group anymore, Cheren finally turned around and sighed again. Life really wasn’t fair, was it? But as long as they stopped the Shadow Triad…

“I can call for another ambulance if you can’t walk,” Blake offered.

“I’ve been walking this whole time.” Why couldn’t Cheren control his temper anymore? “Sorry… I can walk. Come on, Arcanine.”

But they had barely walked three feet before a shiver crawled up his spine. Something didn’t feel right… and something definitely didn’t look right. Even with Blake’s flashlight, there wasn’t really enough light to see clearly. And the sewers had always been damp and cool.

It was the orange hue and the warmth on his back that threw him off. “Arcanine,” he whispered, and the beast turned, too, “Fire Blast.”

Arcanine’s giant blast met the same form approaching them—and the force of the colliding powers exploded with a burst, enough to knock both Cheren and Blake off their feet. But soon, the flashlight was the only source of light again, and there was no more warmth, just the wet floor and cool, stagnant air.

“What the hell was that?”

Blake stood up and held out his hand to Cheren. “I’d wager a warning. Corby’s used that trick before. He’s trying to run us out of here fast. They must’ve met trouble already.” Once Cheren was on his feet, the two glanced in the direction of the Fire Blast. “We best get out of here. They’ve got it handled.”

The beginnings of a plan formulated in Cheren’s already-crammed head. Yeah… he knew even before he agreed to go with Blake that this probably wasn’t going to last. Even if the police didn’t need Cheren, they also could use the help, right?

“Sorry again!”

Cheren pulled himself on Arcanine’s back and nudged its sides. Arcanine sprinted, its muscles solid beneath its fur, and Cheren grabbed onto some tuffs of fur around its neck. “Come on, they went down that tunnel there! But stop if you see or hear any fighting, okay?”

The poor beast practically skidded to a stop just five hundred feet into the second tunnel. Its ears went up straight, and its fur stood on end. Cheren slid off Arcanine’s back and scratched behind its ears. It didn’t seem to get the fire-type’s attention, however. It was focused straight ahead where Cheren could see the gathered light of the police’s flashlights.

Cheren walked forward with light steps into a large room, but all was not calm. The other team, the one with Officer Mallory, wasn’t here, but one of the Shadows was. He had three Pokémon attacking the officers, two Bisharp and an Absol, but the sheer number of officers made it clear who was at the advantage.

“Take ‘em down!” the Shadow yelled.

For the first time in these tunnels, Cheren’s heart was light in his chest. He watched as Corby pointed a finger at one of the Bisharp, and his own Arcanine sent a blast towards it. Two of the other officers were taking on the Absol, and the rest were attacking any Pokémon they could. The battle couldn’t possibly be won by the Shadow.

That was, of course, assuming he’d play fair.

Cheren saw a thought pass through the Shadow’s face. His eyes went even darker, almost sad, as if any of the Shadow Triad could feel such an emotion. Glancing down at the floor, the man crossed his right hand over his heart, and Cheren could see the movement of the Shadow’s lips behind the thin fabric over his mouth.

“What did he say?” Cheren muttered. “What is he doing?”

That sad expression was gone when the Shadow looked up again. His eyebrows furrowed, which only cast a dark shadow over his eyes. “Absol! Earthquake!”

Cheren’s body reacted again without his mind’s permission. He ran forward, holding his hands up over his head. “Stop!” he screamed, and every head turned towards him—every head, he saw, except for the one that mattered: the Absol. And he knew then that it was already too late to stop it. Too late to stop the Shadow.

It was said that Absol brought catastrophe, but maybe it would just be a light tremor. Maybe it wasn’t bringing chaos.

The tremor from the earthquake _was_ light at first. The power of a Pokémon very rarely equated to a natural disaster of an earthquake, except in the case of legendaries and Pokémon with direct power over the environment. Unova also wasn’t known for powerful earthquakes—anything it did have tended to be too weak to do much damage.

Absol’s earthquake, however, would be the catastrophe that everyone expected when they saw one of the white terrors. The city above them could handle an earthquake—the buildings were designed to do so. But the sewers weren’t built to be the epicenter of a massive quake. The concrete walls and ceilings didn’t allow for shifting.

And once that tremor grew to something more…

Cheren was knocked to the ground not from the force of the strengthening quake but from Arcanine jumping on his back. The Pokémon was not light—it was twice Cheren’s weight—but it pressed itself over Cheren’s body. He couldn’t move, couldn’t look up to see what everyone else was doing, but he still felt the vibrations of the floor.

Everything was muffled by Arcanine, but Cheren could hear the desperation in the low voices of the officers nearest to him, and when the walls and ceiling started cracking, he could hear that, too. Cheren tried to push himself out from under Arcanine, but there was no way he could even begin to move it.

The attack ceased after a few moments, and everyone in these sewers would be safe from any aftershocks, namely because there wouldn’t be any—not from an earthquake caused by a Pokémon, anyway. 

Arcanine scooted off Cheren’s back, and the gym leader rose slowly and carefully to his feet to survey the damage. There was less light now—some of the flashlights had apparently been buried, which meant that… people had to have been buried, too.

From what Cheren could see, the damage wasn’t wildly expansive. Several slabs of concrete had fallen from the ceiling, and one of the walls on the right-hand side collapsed entirely. But most of the structure of the room still remained—no part of the city was falling in on them, anyway, at least for now.

“Hello?” Cheren called, glancing around at the floor. Everyone uncovered shifted, moving their hands from their heads and rolling onto their backs.

“Cheren?” Corby’s voice—but Cheren could see him.

The light around them flickered as everyone moved their flashlights and stood up. One finally fell on Cheren’s face, and he held up a hand to shield his eyes. Corby approached him slowly with a limp in his step.

Cheren couldn’t focus on Corby, though—he was all right. But where did the Shadow go? Where were his Pokémon?

There was movement before Cheren could see what it was, and he lowered his hand from over his eyes just as Corby pointed the flashlight away. But all that was audible, all that Cheren needed to hear to _know_ , was Corby’s gasps as a Bisharp ran its bladed arm through the man’s back. And that was all that caused another knee-jerk reaction.

“Arcanine, get around it and use Flamethrower!”

The Bisharp barely moved, barely pulled its arm out of Corby, before Arcanine got the edge on it. Cheren grabbed Corby’s arm and yanked him forward, and the cop fell down on his knees just as a wave of fire shot at the Bisharp behind him. The Bisharp fell backwards and didn’t move anymore, which wasn’t that far off from Corby.

“Ah, ah, Corby? Ah, um…” Cheren eased the officer onto his side, unsure what else he could do.

He was surrounded, shortly, by several other officers. All battling had ceased—the Bisharp that Arcanine defeated was done and out, and Cheren couldn’t even see the other Bisharp or the Absol. And what about the Shadow? Where had he gone now? Or had he been crushed by the rubble?

“Move, kid.”

One of the other police officers pushed Cheren out of the way, and he stumbled back to his feet and grabbed Corby’s flashlight. There was nothing Cheren could do for him, anyway, and he had seen enough in his stay in these sewers that he didn’t need to see anything else. But his heart ached a little bit all the same.

Cheren turned the flashlight on the fallen concrete slabs from the ceiling and ran it along the edges. And as he walked around, his heart continued to ache and to pound with every step. It was not until he saw a flash of white hair beneath the stone that suddenly all that aching stopped.

It was the Shadow beneath that slab… and he wasn’t moving.

Never had Cheren thought that the sight of someone unconscious would bring him such relief, but as he turned around back towards Corby, he was smiling.

“We need to get Corby an ambulance. At this point we should just keep one waiting. What’s the count on the other officers?” one of the policemen was asking as Cheren walked back over towards the group surrounding Corby.

“Three injured from the attack. We were lucky we were at the edge of the room—the slabs fell in towards the center. Any word on the Shadow?”

“He’s there, under the ceiling slab,” Cheren finally interjected.

The officer who spoke first raised his eyebrows at Cheren. “Weren’t you supposed to go back with Blake? What are you doing here?”

“Yes, sir, he was.” Officer Blake cleared his throat behind Cheren, who winced at the sound. “What’s the location on Mallory’s team? That’s only one Shadow Triad member—Leader Cheren said there were three. We need a team to press on forward and some officers to take Corby and the three injured out to an ambulance.”

“Mallory’s position is currently unknown. We were ambushed here by that Shadow Triad man,” the other officer noted. “It’s likely that at least one other Shadow Triad member is with Mallory’s team if this was a planned attack.”

They were close, then. The Shadow Triad wouldn’t leave N alone unless he was in that maintenance room or dead… at least, that was what Cheren assumed. They were always doting on “Lord N”, even if it was all just a farce. So, that meant that N was either with Mallory’s team with the Shadows, or Mallory’s team hadn’t made it to the Shadows yet. Probably.

But they were close. That was all that mattered.

“I’m going on. This isn’t over yet,” Cheren decided. “Who’s coming?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took advantage of some, er, creative liberties in this chapter. Before anyone calls me out on it… Absol can’t learn Earthquake. However, considering it’s the “Disaster Pokémon”, that seems pretty ridiculous to me.


	18. The Penultimate

There was a surprising influx of policemen into the tunnel ahead, and it was the sound of those many footsteps that made Cheren pause and glance back. For some reason, he expected maybe one or two officers to tag along, and the rest would stay behind and care for the injured men. Instead, their numbers still stood strong.

“You’re not going to help them?” Cheren wondered, though he spun on his heel and continued forward regardless of the reply.

Officer Blake, whose appearance in this tunnel didn’t particularly shock Cheren but instead made him a bit uncomfortable, was the first to respond. “We’ve been trained to handle these situations. When I first started, Officer Mallory explained that it was like when a little kid dropped his pencil box in grade school: other kids would swarm to help, but it usually just made it worse and cause a bigger distraction than necessary. So, basically, we supply our team with the minimal amount of productive help—they’ll still get the job done, and the rest of us can stay on track.”

Cheren’s cheeks burned. Years ago, when Team Plasma had first been a problem, all of the gym leaders had taken care of the sages and let Hilda move forward. And Cheren had always been in a tag-team with Alder at the castle, leaving Hilda alone pretty much the whole time. Maybe if they knew better…

Well, that was done. Hilda won _there_.

“Mallory, what’s your position?”

Cheren looked back once more to see an officer with a walkie-talkie held close to his lips. There wasn’t even static in response, just silence, and it made Cheren’s stomach roll. Suddenly, it was as if he was walking on a ship deck as the sea rolled beneath them, and Cheren stepped awkwardly forward and nearly tumbled to the ground.

“Hey, watch it,” Blake warned, and Cheren pressed a hand to his forehead. He took a deep breath before pushing himself up and forward again with much more careful steps.

“Mallory, we need your position and an APB on the other two Shadow Triad members. One down,” the officer pressed again, his voice rolling deep in the sewers. But during his pause, there was still no response from Mallory’s squad. “Mallory, do you report?”

“He might’ve switched channels,” another officer suggested.

As they walked down the tunnels, it was a constant flurry of desperation to hear from Officer Mallory. The melodic tone that came with the switching of the channels alternated with the officer’s voice every minute or so, and it was enough to make Cheren grit his teeth. It was obvious, if not to them then to him, that Mallory wasn’t going to answer. He never switched channels in the first place.

There was some hope, though, in the fact that one of the Shadows had been defeated—or defeated himself, anyway. Two were easier to take care of than three, after all.

Of course, some selfish part of Cheren intent on revenge wanted him to be the one to stop the Shadow Triad. Even though Cheren could never bring himself to hate N, he could very easily blame the Shadow Triad and hate _them_. And somewhere in his aching heart, he wanted them to all suffer at his hands for what they did.

Revenge wasn’t the answer—it never was. But if the Shadow Triad needed to be stopped, anyway, then why couldn’t Cheren be the one to deliver their punishment?

“Back on channel three,” the officer with the walkie-talkie muttered. Then, into the device, he boomed, “Mallory, give me a position.”

One of the other officers laughed a little bitterly, and Cheren looked over his shoulder at him with narrowed eyes. Truthfully, that chuckle, however unnecessary, embodied everything that everyone else thought. It was useless. The poor guy had gone through every single channel, and Officer Mallory wasn’t replying on any of them. What was the use now?

But then something crackled, and every single person in that group froze.

“So noisy.”

Cheren’s breath came out long and low, and his eyes darted back and forth in the darkness ahead of them, as if the Shadow might come popping out of it at any moment. But there wasn’t a flash of white from his hair, nor a blur of darkness dodging the light from the flashlights. Regardless, his heartbeat quickened at the sound of his voice.

“Mallory?”

“Wrong.” The Shadow clicked his tongue—or he must’ve, anyway, not that anyone could tell. But the sound came through eerily on the walkie-talkie, like someone was right there tapping on the wall.

Cheren walked towards the officer and held out his hand. “Let me talk to him,” he requested. The officer held onto the walkie-talkie, but after a moment, he placed it tentatively in the young man’s hand. Cheren closed his fingers around it, surprised at its weight, but it was simple enough to press the button and talk.

“This is Cheren. I wanted to let you know that your trio’s down to two.” Cheren raised his finger from the talk button and waited. He didn’t know what he expected…

But it wasn’t laughter.

The Shadow Triad was an interesting group in that they didn’t _act_ particularly villainous. Sure, they were terrible people who sent their Pokémon to do terrible things, but they were relatively polite—especially to N. For people who encompassed evil in their very beings, to someone who heard them speak, they sounded tame.

Yet that laughter in that moment… it was one of the first times that Cheren would describe one of the Shadows as wicked. The laugh might’ve been better described as a cackle, but even that wouldn’t do it justice. It boomed, up and down, up and down, and Cheren could picture the Shadow’s chest rising and falling visibly with the quick bursts.

“Isn’t yours by now, as well?” the Shadow wondered once he had control of himself again. “Mmm, I don’t know. You have quite a group there.”

“Where are you? Is the other one there?” Cheren demanded, but he didn’t let his voice come off as desperate. _He_ was the one ruling this board—the tables had turned from last time, when he was just a pawn. Now the opponent’s king was in trouble, the stalemate turning into check.

The Shadow hummed, as if that was necessary to broadcast. Cheren glanced around at the other officers, all of whom were staring at the walkie-talkie with serious expressions. But Blake, who took a step closer to Cheren without him even realizing it, let his lip curl up in disgust, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if he smacked that little black box to the ground.

“I’m afraid it’s only me. I’ll come to you right now, Leader Cheren. Please be patient.”

 _Patient_? Cheren thought. There was no reason that the Shadow would ever need to tell anyone to be patient considering how fast he and the others could move. Was that just a trick to make sure some of the officers in this group who didn’t know better would let their guards down?

“He’ll be here quickly. Prepare yourselves,” Cheren warned, putting a hand on Rosa’s Arcanine. Other officers let out their Pokémon, too, making it crammed in that tunnel. There was no way that they’d be able to fight in a place like this—it was easier in one of the openings. But maybe that’d mean the Shadow wouldn’t fight, either.

But there _was_ a problem. The Shadow said he was alone, which meant that it was more likely than not that N wasn’t with him. The third Shadow was still somewhere with N, so Cheren or the policemen would need to get the information out of this one. And poor Cheren knew as well as anyone how difficult that would be.

The Shadow appeared as though walking out of a fog not a minute after his final message on the walkie-talkie. Just behind him, his two Bisharp and an Accelgor appeared from the darkness into the light. One of the officers pointed his flashlight directly onto the Shadow’s face, but the man didn’t even raise a hand to shield himself.

“Where’s N?” Cheren’s voice was soft, respectful, and everything that the man in front of him didn’t deserve.

“With Lord Ghetsis.” The Shadow’s voice, too, was respectful. He took a step forward, out of the light so that it hit his chest instead, and pulled his mask down.

Cheren wasn’t quite sure what he expected—that the Shadows wore that stupid piece of black cloth over their mouths because they had been critically injured. But his mouth was perfectly normal; his lips were light pink; his chin was pointed; everything was as it was supposed to be.

It took the gym leader aback a little, but he shook himself back into reality. “Ghetsis is here?”

“Not quite. But he has seemed to find himself again. It’s such a relief,” the Shadow explained—even his teeth, Cheren noted, were perfectly white and straight. “He won’t be happy that my brother has fallen, though. I suppose it can’t be helped. There are far more of you than there are us. Surely I’ll be next.”

“Then why don’t you just tell us where Ghetsis and N are? The policemen will have to arrest you, but it’s better than being crushed by falling concrete. Oh,” Cheren added, rubbing his hand back and forth on Arcanine’s back. “My Pokémon. And Rosa’s—N’s, too, if you have them. You should tell us where those are, too.”

The Shadow put a finger to the corner of his mouth, his eyes turned up towards the ceiling. “I have yours. One of my brother’s has Rosa’s, and the other has N’s. But I’m afraid I can’t just give them back, nor can I tell you where my lord is. You see, I’m under strict orders. However, if you can defeat me, too, you are free to take all I have.”

Officer Blake stepped forward beside Cheren, but the young gym leader held up a hand. “Sorry. He’s mine.”

And just the flicker of the Shadow’s lips was all it took to start that battle—the battle for which Cheren had been yearning. Even though Rosa’s Arcanine was all he had, he would take back his team and everyone else. Besides, it had always been a team effort. Rosa, N, and Cheren agreed to work together to find Hilda. Now, he had to thank the two of them. If not for N, Rosa wouldn’t have come along—and without Rosa, he would probably be dead.

Cheren didn’t expect the Shadow to play fair now, since the group hadn’t the whole time, so it was no surprise that all three of his Pokémon struck at once. The Bisharp moved forward without orders, striking into the crowd of policemen instead of at Cheren, but the Accelgor made its target clear.

“Extreme speed,” Cheren ordered. “Save the others first!”

Arcanine couldn’t very well send flames into the crowd in a tunnel this small, and Arcanine didn’t have much room to move. But it managed to pin a Bisharp sending it flying back towards the Shadow. A moment later, it had the other.

“You’re not so scary by yourself,” Cheren muttered. “Use Flamethrower now!”

He didn’t notice that Accelgor moved out of range, so when a powerful blast burst from it and knocked Cheren backwards, he never saw it coming. He fell against a few of the other officers, knocking them over, too.

“Cheren!” Blake yelled.

He rubbed his head and pushed himself to his feet. “Sorry,” he muttered. His vision blurred when he tried to look back at the Shadow’s team. Where were they? “Arcanine!”

Rosa’s Pokémon was one step ahead of him. The Bisharp had to be finished—with an attack as powerful as Arcanine’s Flamethrower with four times damage on the both, there was no way they could endure it. But Accelgor was still somewhere beyond Cheren’s blurred vision.

With another eruption of flames from the beast, it was safe to say that the Accelgor was no longer able to fight, either. That the Shadow Triad had once been so problematic and so overpowered was like a foreign concept now. And it was true that it had been circumstances only that made them unstoppable before. Rosa essentially had them beat when they first found them—but they snatched Cheren and ran. Whatever happened between N and the Shadows was unknown to him, but Rosa wouldn’t have let them win unless they tricked her.

Cheren walked forward as the flames dissipated, stepping over the fallen Accelgor and holding his hands out. The Shadow barely moved when Cheren shoved him to the floor, and Arcanine hurried over to place a paw on his chest. Cheren stood just above him, and the amount of power he felt standing over him was indescribable.

But Cheren’s strength was that of the heart—he couldn’t forget that.

“Where is Ghetsis? Tell me right now.”

The Shadow laughed again, just as he had on the walkie-talkie, but the sound in person made Cheren’s hair stand on end. No matter how polite the Shadow Triad spoke—no matter the façade they put up—this was the proof that they were what was wrong with this world. There was no amusement in that laugh—just cruelty.

“We’ve already failed, anyway. How can I show my face to Lord Ghetsis now?” The Shadow wasn’t looking at Cheren but instead had his eyes pointed down. “The sewers are connected to the Relic Passage.” The Shadow held up a hand and pointed towards the officers. “Back that way.”

Cheren gestured for an officer to come forward, and one of the women hurried over and flipped the Shadow onto his back to handcuff him. It was like another weight was lifted off Cheren’s shoulders—he couldn’t say he felt more energized, but he did feel _better_.

“You know,” Cheren began, watching as another officer came over and held onto the Shadow’s arm with the policewoman. “N was willing to give Ghetsis the benefit of the doubt. I’m sure he’s very disappointed. I really hoped for his sake that I was wrong, so… you know… I’m a little disappointed, too.”

\- - - - -

The Shadow was sent outside with the other one—one alive, one dead—and Cheren received both his Pokémon back and Rosa’s. Officer Mallory’s small team, ambushed by the Shadow, didn’t stand much of a chance, but they were all alive. Officer Corby and the other injured officers had been evacuated from the sewers, too, and even Cheren’s team was leaving the inner radius of the sewers. He was pleased to think that he’d never have to go back in.

But it wasn’t over yet. The entrance to the Relic Passage was pretty close to the entrance—close enough that when Cheren looked over his shoulder in the tunnel that led to it, he could see, now that his vision wasn’t so blurry anymore, some light filtering in from the city above. It was almost heartbreaking.

When they passed from the concrete walls of the sewers into the earthy walls of the cave, Cheren couldn’t help but feel as if this was leading to some sort of conclusion. And maybe it was truly so—when he turned his flashlight on the walls, he noticed something peculiar.

“N…”

Cheren reached a hand out and let his fingers follow the line drawn on the wall that led to the zig-zag of the letter N and back to a line again. That was a sign if he ever saw one, and Cheren had to admit himself a _bit_ surprised that the Shadow hadn’t lied to him. N was somewhere in these caves after all, and he was smart enough to leave a trail behind.

“Uh, Cheren…”

Officer Blake tapped him on the shoulder and pointed up. Cheren looked up at the roof of the cave, and his eyes went wide at the sight. How he hadn’t _heard_ it was a mystery, since now that he was paying attention, it was much like the sound a typhoon made as it passed on the shore.

Golbats, possibly dozens of them, were flying above them—not just flying, even, but swarming to something. They moved in a frenzy, hurrying to _somewhere_ , and Cheren had a feeling that he knew who made them move in the first place. There was only one person he knew who could command wild Pokémon.

“Hurry,” Cheren called, and he forced his body beyond its power to run. Sure enough, the Golbats were following the same trail that N left behind.

When Cheren and the policemen made it to the end of the line, they watched as the Golbat filed into the room in front of them—it glowed orange, and Cheren could see some torches on the wall that must’ve provided that warm light. And that light was enough to make the scene playing out within that room perfectly visible.

The space was filled with Pokémon—two Bisharp, a Banette, a Hydreigon, and a Cofagrigus… but mostly Golbats. And all of those Golbats were circling around someone and dropping like flies as they were hit by the other Pokémon. But still, the rest flew on, making that barrier for as long as they could hold on.

Cheren, with his team returned to him, sent out his Stoutland—it was so good to have his own team back. “Use Giga Impact on the Hydreigon,” he ordered, watching as the dragon prepared for its own attack. Stoutland, though large, moved surprisingly quick. And just as the Hydreigon opened its mouth, Stoutland charged at it, knocking it out of mid-air.

Everything changed in that instance. The Golbat flew up, perhaps in sheer shock, revealing the green-haired man behind their barrier; the last Shadow of the bunch turned his eyes on the fallen Hydreigon, and the third and oldest man’s face contorted as his gaze met Cheren’s. The battle ceased completely.

“Cheren! You’re okay!” N shouted.

“Barely,” Cheren muttered in response, and he walked forward towards his friend.

With every step the young man took, Ghetsis’s face twisted even further. His eyes kept flickering between him and the police behind him, all of whom had entered the room and had their own Pokémon by their sides. Realistically, there was no way that Ghetsis was going to make it out of here as a free man—and he seemed to know that.

“Ignore them!” the crazed man screeched. “The only one that matters is him!” He jabbed a finger towards N, and the Shadow bowed. “Kill anyone who gets in the way!”

N just stuck his fingers in his mouth and blew. The whistle that came out was loud enough that Cheren had to cover an ear, but its effect was undeniable; the Golbat that had flown back up to the ceiling started swarming again, and N raised a hand above his head.

“I’m sorry, but I must use you again! Please, friends, protect our team!” N shouted, and when he lowered his hand, the Golbat flew, moving behind him and Cheren to a spot in front of the policemen.

Cheren’s Stoutland, recovered from its attacked, hurried back to his side, as well. “Two-on-two is fair, right?” Cheren asked, reaching into his pocket and returning with a few Poké Balls—all that he could fit. “Who are you taking?”

N smiled, taking the balls from Cheren. “My father. Can you handle the Shadow?”

“Might be the last one I can, so it’s a good thing he’s all that’s left.” Cheren wiped his brow and sighed. “And when this is all done, I think we need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put a Lion King reference in there just for fun, but it's super obscure and no one has figured out what it is, haha.
> 
> Next chapter is the last. Bothered me to end on nineteen chapters but, you know, the story ends where the story ends, I suppose.


	19. The Found Ones

Ghetsis and the last Shadow each had more fight left in them than N and Cheren combined. That was what N could infer, at least, in the two seconds of peace before the fight began again. If N thought _he_ was exhausted, worn out from his tears and his heartache, then the fact that Cheren was even standing was astounding.

He realized that Cheren had brought the police along to help, too, but he also knew that Cheren’s lack of comment of N’s decision to have the Golbat protect the officers was silent consent—this battle belonged to N and to Cheren.

Well, it belonged to Rosa, too… and N felt a lurch in his stomach thinking about her. If she wasn’t here with them, then where was she?

 _In progress_ , the Shadow had said when Ghetsis asked if they took care of Rosa.

No… he didn’t exactly have time to concern himself with those negative thoughts, nor did he have any time to ask Cheren if she was okay. All he could do was hope that Rosa was fine and that she hadn’t met the same fate as Hilda. Cheren would fill him in on everything he needed to know once the battle was said and done.

Of course, N wasn’t much of a battler, and Ghetsis, as a trainer, was stronger. He felt guilty enough as it was asking those Golbat to help him, though the fact that they responded to his whistle on the way over to this cavern reassured him that he was still trustworthy to Pokémon. But he didn’t ask them to sacrifice themselves for him—they had taken it upon themselves to create the barrier between N and Ghetsis’s and the Shadow’s Pokémon, and though he begged them to stop, they kept it up all the while.

But now, he was essentially alone. Cheren would take on the Shadow, though it was likely that his battle would conclude shortly. Until then, though? N would have to take on his father in what would hopefully be the final showdown.

N couldn’t redeem Ghetsis. No matter how much he wished that the end to all of this might be happy, the probability of the opposite spoke louder than words.

It wasn’t even probability anymore… it was fact. Ghetsis didn’t want to be saved—he didn’t want to be redeemed.

N inhaled slowly, turning his eyes for just a moment on Cheren, who already had his Stoutland tackling one of the Shadow’s Bisharp. A second Pokémon, an Arcanine—no, she had to be loyal to Rosa first—growled at Cheren’s side, but he held a hand out to stop it from attacking. Both Pokémon, N noted, could sense Cheren’s exhaustion, which only made them want to fight even harder for him.

Turning his gaze away from his opponent was a mistake. N was barely facing forward again before he was knocked to the ground. He curled up into a ball, holding his stomach and struggling to find his breath. Cheren called his name, but N’s ears were ringing so loudly that he wasn’t sure that Cheren spoke at all.

He managed to roll over onto his knees, and he lifted his head enough to see the weakened Hydreigon charging for another attack. N didn’t have much time.

“Forgive me… for using you… but please… Ice Beam,” he breathed, letting one of the Poké Balls fall from his hand and roll along the floor.

Abomasnow made it out in time, but its attack met Hydreigon’s and exploded. The air turned cool and hazy, enough so that N couldn’t see Cheren until the icy mist settled on the ground. Hydreigon, who had already been weakened by Cheren’s Stoutland, was barely able to keep itself in the air, and Ghetsis didn’t miss this.

“Useless!” he hissed, and his eyes flickered to the Cofagrigus waiting behind Hydreigon. “Don’t just wait! Get him!”

It was clear from the very beginning that Ghetsis had no intentions of really battling—all he wanted was N’s head hung on a wall. There was no chance of him fighting fair, not like he had in the past; it hadn’t worked well for him then. Hilda and Rosa both showed him up. Now, in this last chance, it was all or nothing.

N glanced over at Cheren again—one of the Shadow’s Bisharp had taken out the Stoutland, and the gym leader had sent out his Watchog to fight.

He’d have to fight fair. It was only right, at the very least stupid, but Hilda would’ve fought fair, too.

“Abomasnow.” N faced his battle again. “Use Ice Beam again, please.”

There was no way the attack would hit both enemies, but he only needed to get rid of one for now. As Cofagrigus launched a Shadow Ball at N, Abomasnow shot off an Ice Beam at Hydreigon. N didn’t see the attack, though. He pushed himself up and into a wall, glancing back where the ghost-type attack hit some of the Golbat.

Ghetsis’s roar of frustration confirmed Hydreigon’s defeat. His most powerful Pokémon was down, but that didn’t mean that it was a sure-fire victory—even less so as Ghetsis, with a crazed and desperate throw, released the remainder of his team onto the battlefield: a Drapion and a Toxicroak. But that only brought the total to four.

“Nothing else?” N wondered in a slightly taunting tone, which shocked himself that he could manage it at all.

Ghetsis’s eye practically burned, reflecting the light from the torches on the wall. “The rest couldn’t cut it.”

Perhaps it was due to naïveté that this made N’s stomach lurch again. It wasn’t really unlike Ghetsis to say something so rash, but the words hit like punches. What happened to those other Pokémon, or were they now free from the chains Ghetsis made them hold? Somehow, the latter seemed too fantastical a thought.

 _This is no time to be noble_ , N thought, and he released two more of his Pokémon a little reluctantly. He could fight fair and lose, or he could equal the playing field and have a chance. Guilt lingered in the back of his head that he wasn’t playing by the rules, like Cheren, but this was all he could do to stop Ghetsis from walking out of here a free man.

His Abomasnow, Ninetales, and Armaldo fended off Ghetsis’s Cofagrigus, Drapion, and Toxicroak, and all of their thoughts and desires overflowed. N’s friends wouldn’t let him down—they understood what was at stake here.

Abomasnow, weakened from the ongoing battle, was the first to fall. “I’m so sorry,” N told it as it disappeared back into its Poké Ball. “But thank you for helping me.”

Ghetsis, now one stronger in number than N, moved frantically. As the Pokémon battled, he paced back and forth, barking order after order. But in his head, he wasn’t winning—N was still standing, his heart still beating, and victory only came when his body hit the floor.

“Ninetales, Fire Blast!”

Cofagrigus, who had continued shooting off attacks towards N, fell with Ninetales’s fiery hit. But neither Drapion nor Toxicroak waivered as they shifted their focus to N—with such an aggressive display, how was one supposed to survive?

Armaldo moved into range, taking the attacks from the two opponents. Another teammate down… another Pokémon who put itself in jeopardy to save a human. This was why N found battling so cruel—he had to request the aid of those Golbat; his friends, his teammates, protected him. How was this fair? He couldn’t protect _them_.

Reshiram could help him… but Reshiram wasn’t here.

“Ghetsis,” N began, “please just surrender. No one else needs to get hurt.”

“Shut your mouth. Stop with that damn innocence of yours,” Ghetsis growled back, his voice thick and raspy. “I want to see the hatred in your eyes as the light fades from them.”

There was another barrage of attacks, but Ninetales shot some flames of her own to counter them. The battle resumed to full power, and Drapion was the next to fall. Ghetsis’s body shook, and the tremor moved through his whole body as he hung his head.

But when he looked back up, his uncovered eye spoke more terrifying words than his mouth ever could.

Ghetsis was going to lose. Ninetales was more sure of that than N was, but as she fired one final flame at Toxicroak, N could see the end of the battle. He held his breath and looked over at Cheren, whose battle was surprisingly still ongoing. The Shadow had a single Pokémon left, but he, unlike Ghetsis, appeared calm.

And there had to be a reason for that calm. The Banette that Cheren’s Cinccino was trying to parry abandoned its foe, and with movements as swifts as those of its master, it made a dive towards N with a zippered grin on its face.

The Golbat that had been protecting the policemen from the explosions of battle moved just as fast as that Banette, owing to the instincts that N didn’t quite have. Even Cheren stood in awe as the swam of a dozen Golbats surrounded the Banette, and in a moment, the ghost, too, hit the ground. He could hardly fathom the trust that these wild Pokémon put in N—but he knew that, somehow, N deserved it.

Ninetales moved before N could stop her. It growled at Ghetsis, getting close enough that Ghetsis took steps back until he was against the wall. Out of the corner of N’s eye, he could see Cheren approaching the Shadow with the support of some policemen not too far away. But could anyone say if this battle was won? 

N walked towards Ghetsis and put his hand on Ninetales’s head. Ghetsis was the only one now baring teeth.

“We could have been happy. You could have been my father—I could have been your son. But _you_ were the one with a warped perception of reality. You made the choice to turn me into a tool.” N leaned closer to Ghetsis, and the man let his eye wander from N’s face. Coward. “If things had gone differently… I think you could have been someone who brought meaning into my life. But all the meaning my life had with you… all of that was false. The one who let me have the chance to find myself, the way I wanted, was Hilda.”

“And now she’s rotting like she deserves,” Ghetsis spat back.

He reached a hand up towards N’s throat, but the young man smacked it away. Shocked at his own reaction, N’s eyes widened, but he didn’t back down.

“You’re deplorable. I understand that you were not the one to kill Hilda, but that you think she deserves death makes you just as guilty of the crime.” N’s eyes watered, and he faltered now—he never intended to show weakness in front of Ghetsis.

But then he remembered what he thought earlier—Ghetsis was the one who believed tears signaled weakness. Hilda believed strength came as a result of them.

Hers was the only opinion that mattered now.

“I’m still learning what it means to have a human heart and to feel human emotions… because of you, I couldn’t before…” he started, and the first tear slipped down his cheek. His voice cracked as he continued. “But I know now what it feels to have a heart broken. So let that be your only solace in your pitiable life. You got at least that much from me.”

The police grabbed Ghetsis, like the Shadow, and spun him around to face the wall. N couldn’t bring himself to watch. In fact, it was only as they pulled him and the Shadow away that N finally opened his eyes again to find Cheren right by his side.

“I want to talk,” Cheren told him, standing close beside N. “But I’m too tired. Do you mind if we get out of here first?”

N leaned against the wall of the cave and sighed. “Lead the way.”

\- - - - -

The Castelia General Hospital saw a peak in patients that day. With the admittance of half of the police force who had undertaken the challenge of going into the sewers—including Mallory and his two teammates, Corby, and several other officers from the additional crew—and three injured young adults, most of the critical units wing was filled.

Luckily, N’s admittance was a short one. He was the first of the three to be discharged and the first of the three to be informed about Hilda, something for which he was not prepared.

“The DNA tests have begun, but results _do_ take awhile. However, based on the age of the body and most of the other evidence currently available, I think it’s fair to say that the body does belong to Champion Hilda. I already informed her mother, and based on what Cheren told me, it’s only fair that you be the second to know,” the woman who came to see him, someone named Avani, told him. “And don’t worry: the men who are responsible for her death will be in prison for the rest of their lives. I can guarantee that.”

What N said to Ghetsis back in the cave was true. His heart was broken. He opened his heart to Hilda, something that he didn’t even know he could do in the first place. How was it possible now that he could ever mend the hole left behind as a result of her death?

But, regardless of that hole, his heart still beat. And N had been particular about his wording earlier. Ghetsis gave N’s life false meaning—Hilda gave N the opportunity to find his own meaning in life.

He would recover. And even if that hole never mended completely—and how could it when Hilda was someone so special in his life?—that heart would keep beating.

N considered leaving again. Cheren and Rosa would be free from him, just as they were now free of Ghetsis and the Shadow Triad. But he also realized that his regret now was leaving when Hilda asked him to stay. Sure, he found himself. But was Hilda’s death worth betraying her feelings, even if he hadn’t understood them then?

He was halfway out the door when he turned back around and walked to Cheren’s room. Reshiram would understand and wait a little longer—it was satisfied enough just seeing him when he walked out of the sewers with Cheren.

“Thank goodness!”

The words were followed by touch. Rosa pressed herself against him, holding onto him so firmly that it seemed possible she might never let him go. One of her arms, though, was wrapped and pulled up into a sling, but that didn’t stop her from hugging N any less tightly. It was her lack of hesitance that made N hold her back.

“Rosa, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you come,” N offered, and Rosa shook her head as she backed away and sat on the edge of Cheren’s bed.

“Cheren told me that Ghetsis and the Shadow Triad, except for the one who killed himself, are all in jail without bail right now. The world is safer. But…” Rosa paused and glanced down at her arm in the sling. “There are things cannot be unseen. I’ve been having nightmares every night. I just want them to stop, and I can’t make them… and Cheren…”

She looked to the dark-haired young man now, and N slumped into one of the chairs. Cheren, though, rolled his eyes. Now that he had managed to get some significant sleep and some nutrients in his system, the world seemed clearer and better.

“I can’t eat,” Cheren explained. “They’re trying to wean me off liquid meals at the moment, but I can’t seem to keep any food down.”

N considered now that he might have left to spare the two their miseries. How was it fair that the two endured such pain, and N made it out relatively unscathed? It was only his heart that ached now, and who knew how long that would last?

“I’m sorry,” N repeated.

“Don’t be. We wouldn’t have known if we didn’t go looking, and it’s better to have closure than know nothing at all,” Cheren said, his voice wavering only slightly. Perhaps he was stronger than N in that regard. “Of course, I also have a feeling we walked into the Shadow Triad’s trap. I think they would’ve moved sooner otherwise, don’t you think? They were waiting for us to come looking. And, from what Rosa said of your bargain, it was important that you turn yourself in.”

“Yes, I think so, too. Though I never really intended on doing that…” N added, rubbing his chin with the tip of his thumb. “It was my fault that I believed that they would truly let the two of you go by handing myself over to them.”

Rosa touched the elbow of her arm in the sling, and everything she felt then reminded her of how much worse things could have been. “They took advantage of us—they outwitted us. It wasn’t that they were stronger… they just had this whole thing planned out way ahead of time, and we moved exactly like they wanted us to.”

The three sat in silence for a little while, the constant beeping of Cheren’s heart monitor like a soothing lullaby to them. The silence of the sewers had been unnerving, and to have some background noise now made it a little bit better. But even N had asked the nurse to keep a light on last night when he slept.

“N.” Cheren’s voice cracked on that single syllable, that one letter, and N pulled his legs up on the chair. He had been taught to sit properly when he grew up at the castle, and to sit like this now created a pleasant dissonance in his mind, if that was even possible. “I still want to talk to you about something. About Hilda. We _need_ to talk.” Rosa stood from Cheren’s bed, but he waved her back down. “You can stay, too.”

Rosa sunk back down, but she didn’t say anything; N just couldn’t bring himself to speak.

“I know that this must be difficult for you—if anyone knows and understands that, I do. I’m empathizing, not just sympathizing,” Cheren explained, tone as somber as the words. “I loved Hilda, too.”

Rosa’s head sunk a little, but it wasn’t disrespectful or even that noticeable. It was just a little dip of the head—a little dip that meant that she knew Cheren wouldn’t return her affections soon if at all, but she understood, too. And she was going to keep quiet on those feelings for as long as necessary, possibly forever, until the wounds healed into scars and faded.

N, on the other hand, lifted his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t know—human emotions were sometimes too blatant. But hearing those words reminded him of the power of expressing the emotions out loud.

“I just want you to know that I’m the one who is sorry. I know this is belated, but Hilda’s death made me realize something,” Cheren continued. “I’ve been rude to you ever since I met you, and many times it was unfounded. I continued to be rude even after Hilda told me not to be because you only wanted to help. I continued to be rude _again_ after it became obvious that you really were the person Hilda believed you to be—rude beyond words. So, I’m sorry. I’d rather be your friend than your enemy.”

“Oh…” N was innocent as always, in on things at the last minute. “I thought we were friends already. I guess I’m still naïve.”

The three laughed dryly and awkwardly, though the sound was short-lived. To laugh without Hilda here—without her _here_ —didn’t seem right. But they were going to have to learn to live again because it was too late to go back and change things.

“I know Hilda wasn’t around these past three years, but she was always still _there_.” N sighed. What would it be like to be set free now? “It’s different knowing that she’s not coming back, and I’m not sure I can explain what that pain feels like. I’ve never felt this way before. But don’t you… think that it confirms I’m human?”

“You’ve always been human. Pain just reminds us that we’re alive,” Rosa said, running her fingers over the thin sheets on Cheren’s bed. “If it hurts, good. That means you can keep going.”

Keep going? N wanted to keep going. Hilda would want him to keep going. But that was easier said than done.

“How?”

They all pondered this for a moment. They each had their hurdles to overcome. Rosa would need to move past the violence she faced in the sewers; Cheren and N would need to move on from Hilda’s death, each in their own ways. But how did they keep going when they could barely tread water as they were now?

“I think… we remember what she stood for,” Cheren said carefully… tentatively, like maybe it wasn’t the right answer but the only one. “N, she helped you find your own path, right? Keep walking down that path. And I’ll keep aiming to become as strong as I can—strength for myself, like she taught me. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be immediate. But…”

N nodded, pulling his knees against his chest. This devastated him—he couldn’t forget. He couldn’t very well just get up and keep walking. Cheren was right—it would take time to make it that far. But for now, a single step forward was a step forward at all. Hilda would want him to live, and she would want him to keep moving on.

“What’s the probability of feeling whole again?” N asked.

Cheren exchanged a quick look with Rosa. “Well, it’s called loss for a reason. We’ve lost something we can’t get back. So, whole? Zero percent. But the probability of feeling _better_ is one hundred. Someday. Weird how a heart can weigh so heavy when it’s lost so much…”

Rosa stood up again and put her hand over Cheren’s. She nodded at him, but he could only stare in response. Then, walking around the bed, she stood in front of N and put her hand over his, too.

“She loves you,” she told them both, the tense a conscious choice. “She wants you to smile. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But how about the day after?”

N stared at Rosa for a moment without saying anything before looking over at Cheren. “The day after?” he repeated, and Rosa nodded. Cheren, too, brought himself to nod.

The world was safe again, at least from Ghetsis and the Shadow Triad. Avani assured him that they’d be in jail for the rest of their lives. N’s life was up to him now. Whatever he wanted to do, he could do. So, if he wanted to smile again, he believed that Hilda would give him permission as fast as she could offer it.

N nodded, too, and then, with some effort, smiled. “I’ll do you two days better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second of my stories that ends in a hospital room... Coincidence? Or am I just a cruel person?
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoyed the fic. It was my first time going back to writing in third-person in a long time (like, loooong time), which was a really good experience for me.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
